Fire Cross My Heart
by Caterchipillar
Summary: Quistis Trepe's uneventful existence of routine and strict order comes to a shattering awakening of laughter and romance when a former wayward student suddenly revisits her life only to prove that he has learned more than she can teach. (Ch19 up)
1. Chapter I

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Chapter One

It's a quarter 'til four o'clock, as indicated in her watch. Her day's work will soon come to an end. As a sigh came out from the fair-skinned woman's shapely lips and a strand of spun gold slid from behind her ear, she bobbed her head to gaze despairingly at the paper work piled before her. She wore a forlorn expression as if facing a death sentence whenever she faced that dreadful task. The classroom clock chimed its toll while she's pleading and begging for the hands of time to just stop inching towards the dreaded hour, although the rest of the day is futile, she did anyway. Then, as always, the signal would ring through out the halls telling every students and teachers alike that all class sessions are over, but to her, it's telling her that another continuous hours of torment is just beginning. 

She dismissed her students cordially as they filed out of the exit, some are reluctant but most are eager to leave. Once all were gone, she returned to her seat. She situated herself at the head of the room, before her is a fully mechanized computer-desk and a big screen behind where she sits. She began to flip through the pile of documents and lecture sheets mindlessly, unenthusiastic about the loathsome task.

Since she does not often display her distress, it would not occur to anyone that the poised, self-assured Quistis Trepe is tormented by dry, monotonous, and too repetitive boredom. It took her sweat and blood to gain and re-gain her rank, but the prize only proved to be so lifeless. Aside from paper cuts and kids, the most appealing challenge she had faced lately was split ends. Field exams have become just plain routine. Even the training center had proved to be uninteresting. It's been four years since the Time Compression and three years since Timber was at peace with Galbadia. It's been two years since she _almost _got laid. And last year's highlight would be when she cut her hair. But now, it grew to its former straight and dull length. Maybe this year's highlight would be her, switching to decaf. 

Many nights, in her room, dark and bleak, where she would lie on her back, arms extended as if crucified, only to stare blankly at the ceiling above, she would wonder what her life could have been had she simply declined the position of re-admitted instructor and instead, stepped out from the military confines of Garden. Having been involved with the Ultimecia episode, she would have expected at least a higher promotion. What a bummer! Being re-hired was the best reward she can get. 

She let out a plaintive sigh as she gathered the work before her to pile them together and hesitantly rose from her comfortable seat. Quistis could only dream of miscellaneous adventures she can never experience, the romance she'll never have and the life she could _have_ had. Her career is not as promising to her now as was before. Before when she had so much vigor, and the spontaneity of being live in action. The exhilaration in every mission, the heady thrill of danger at the pit of her stomach was stimulating. Where has it gone? Has she experienced too much too soon that there's nothing left for challenge? It has suddenly been peaceful times and there's no more battles to fight except diseases and human stupidity. Everyone is pleased. Everyone is getting laid. Everyone is getting old. Another wistful groan escaped her as her eyes caught an attractively embossed envelope. Everyone is getting married. 

She collected the wedding invitation as well and tossed it in her attaché to join with her bills and other missives. With a pile of folders on one arm and the other holding a briefcase, she was ready to leave.

"Umm, M-Ms. Trepe?" The voice jolted her from her reverie.

"Yes?" She looked down to meet a small, doe-eyed young boy. "What can I help you with?"

"Umm…M-my name is Ty, and I-I'm your new s-s-student." He straightened himself as if to make up for his stuttering. The boy appeared to be only eight and yet he possessed a willful glint.

She was overwrought with sympathy to hear him struggle with words. Although he faltered in speech, she couldn't help but be impressed with his courage. "Well, I'm certainly glad to meet you, Ty." The smile she wore only caused the child to blush. 

"M-may I help you w-w-with tho-those?" Before she could refuse, the child's able arms stretched out to the folders and carefully wrapped them around the pile. 

She couldn't help but obliged the impressionable young man. "I could only hope for more students like you." They left the classroom together once Quistis switched the lights out and walked the halls together towards her dorm hall

"I u-usually d-don't st-st-stutter, y'know. I-I g-grew out o-of it." She listened politely as the boy poorly excuses himself. "O-only when I'm n-nervous." 

Nervousness is an understatement. Quistis clearly understood a child's perspective in adapting to new surroundings and a new school. She'd seen it many times. Aside from the challenge of making new friends, institutions like Balamb and other Gardens have high demands and expectations from promising young SeeD cadets. "It's alright, Ty. I'm sure you'll do very well with your training and you'll soon have the other kids wanting to be friends with you." The boy looked at her awkwardly as they neared her dorm hall. "Well, over there are the instructors' private lodgings. I'm afraid students are restricted from that area, but thank you for helping me with these."

He kindly returned her folders as he continued to explain himself. "I-I'm not nervous b-because of that." He looked up to her and smiled. "It's because I've never seen anyone so pretty." His shyness became apparent as he flushed red. "Well, bye Ms. Trepe. See you tomorrow morning." He shocked her with that faultless farewell; not even a broken statement was uttered. He ran through the hall towards the elevator.

__

Fancy that. A potential Trepie. She could only hope he wouldn't run into the Disciplinary Committee as she continued her trek towards her room.

AN: This story was originally "Just Once" which I've pulled down only to render it into improvement. As I red through it all, I decided to release a new edition. I just hope you'll like it better this time.


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter Two:**

It was certainly a refreshing treat, especially on a hot and humid afternoon. The sparkled beads rolled soothingly from his high chiseled cheekbones while some dripped at his lips and stubborn jaw as the rest made a wet trail along the sinewy length of his neck. As the droplets glistened on his sun-kissed skin, the breeze fanned against him, leaving a cool feeling. He dipped his hands under the running stream once again and splashed more water against his face. It was a face of which everyone would agree that resembled a demi-god. Although the water was a bit refreshing, it was almost as warm as the weather. The young man reached a hand to the side of his neck while he rubbed and rolled his head from side to side to ease the tension that has been forming from his nape. It was ineffective and so the stiffness remained. He slackenly sat on his haunches while his elbows rested atop his bent knees, letting his lengthy arms dangle. It sure is incredibly hot today. 

A strong gust wafted by, causing the tree leaves above him to dance with the sunlight and the shadows to play across his features. The deep-set eyes of green jaded steel stared intently at the waters before him. Furrowed brows and unblinking, he slowly lifted his golden head and smiled at the skies. He does that often these days. He was either praying to the heavens above for answers or he was silently speaking to himself. It took him a while to rise to his full height of six feet two, and gathered his things. Seifer studied the play of sunlight on his gunblade, the ever trusty Hyperion, before sheathing it back to its scabbard. It has been too damn long since he had last drawn it. He resumed his trek towards the train station while cursing at the blasted heat and for the bloody railroads that should have been built a little closer.

While marching towards the station, he distracted himself into thinking that being nomadic had taken its toll. This time, realizing that he's not getting any younger, he decided to finally perch himself on staying at one place where he could see himself buried. Come to think of it, a man such as he would likely drive himself into an early grave that he shoveled for himself. He grinned at the thought of what his most probable cause of his demise. Boredom would kill him soon enough, if not this blasted heat. Even his Hyperion is rusting with boredom.

He had lived in many different places yet, he couldn't really name any of them as home. Although he must admit that Balamb held a sense of belonging, there really weren't anything there to amuse him. As soon as boredom struck him, he moved onto Dollet and settled there for at least a year. It was a nice place where he can gamble and fish at the same time, but as always, there were certain things he found to his distaste. The only females Dollet carried were either toothless or still in grade school. It had come at an inopportune time when he needed a satisfaction of a certain urge. So he upped and left for the next town where he believed held more verve and vivacity. So in Timber, where he gambled, he whored, and painted the town in the deepest shade of red he could imagine, and where he thought he could finally establish himself. But after three years, the fun later grew old and tiresome. The men at the poker table was no more of a challenge, the whore house carried the same harlots and all began to look alike, and the pub played the same music and served the same people. Inconstancy drove him on to Winhill, a place he didn't know existed before. He only knew about it from an old bugger that lived beside the train station, and he was right, the only way to get there was to walk. And so he did. It was long but he did walk to a new town where he hoped to find a nice quiet living. But he found it too damn quiet and he only lasted in Winhill for a year. The town nearly killed him with dullness It's a place where everybody knows everybody and the latest excitement they'd had was a newborn cow. A cow for god's sake!

Not so early this morning, he packed his meager belongings and left for a new living placement. Wherever might catch his fancy will do for now. What could possibly await him there, he's not sure, and damn it if he gives a rat's ass. He's running out of gil he'd recently won from the gaming tables and once consumed, soon, he'll be forced to steal or worse. He might have to sell Hyperion, which he had occasionally waged at the gambling table, but then a repulsive image of him flipping burgers came into view. He really had to shudder at that. Too proud and self-dignified to put himself in such a debasing subsistence, he snorted. Although a resume containing gun-blade expertise and mercenary experience would undoubtedly impress employers, if not frighten some, he still couldn't escape the criminal record that would simply deny him an opportunity. 

The thin cotton shirt he wore clung to him as if it were a second skin. His sweat continuously drenched him from drastic heat. He should be near the stupid station by now given that he's been walking for hours. There should be a blasted pot of gold at that train station. Oh, what he wouldn't give for a cold beer right now. And probably a cold shower too. He cursed at the world why it had to choose today to be in its hottest day when he had to travel_. _

Just as he was beginning to lose hope for a station that wouldn't come into scene, he heard the unmistakable roar of an engine coming to a halt. He smiled as his luck would allow him that he chanced on a ready train and half ran to catch it before it departs to wherever it leads. His able legs stretched for the station while balancing his bag over his shoulders. _This is a good exercise. I should have a nice tan by now. _

No sooner he arrived at the ticket booth and discovered that the assumed train was bound for Deling City. Now there's a place with changing faces of urban society. A metropolitan atmosphere has absolutely no comparison to measly confining gutter-towns he had been. Why, he just might find himself a nice, wealthy heiress he can marry while he's down there. A terribly easy way of becoming rich simply because of a face both wanted and envied by any art masterpiece. In a world such as this, it is better to be beautiful than to be good, but if one is already cursed with an ugly stick, being good makes up for the tragedy. He chuckled at his silent mirth. 

After the tickets have been paid for, he led himself to a seat beside the window. Thankfully, there weren't many passengers and he was free to put his feet up or sprawl about in the seat if he wanted to. The engine began minutes later and the train had finally set into motion over the tracks. It proved to be a long and aching railroad trip, but he was at least thankful for the shade it offered from the furious sun and what little rest he could get. Seifer succumbed to the heat and fatigue as his lids slowly covered his eyes. He let sleep take over and soon, he was dreaming about things he could have been and still could be.

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There really was no end to this horrible job. Official procedures they say, ha! Stacks after stacks of SeeD evaluation papers, lesson and field exam plans, research projects, followed by new student transfer records seemed to pile up every five minutes. Don't they have computers to do these things? Looking at the cluttered desk, obviously not. The gods must posses a very dry, if not sick humor to have her desk bound. Besides the fact that it was extremely hot today, her air conditioner in her room chose the perfect time to malfunction and drove her to work in the library. If she could list her complaints of what has gone wrong today, she could write a sonnet, but if she has to begin since her birth, it would be her autobiography. Submitting herself in defeat against the mind-numbing paperwork, she threw a pen across the room in frustration. Making sure there were not anyone around to witness that display of irritation, she made a furtive glance around the room before yielding to the urge to curse at her distress.

"Somebody up there is certainly mad at me." She was either referring to the gods' heavens or to the administrators' offices just a floor above hers. There was no way she can make it to the deadline then teach the next day without passing out. The field exams are all happening at the same time, SeeD graduates are determined every hour, and she's getting paper-cuts all over her hands, and she could imagine her eyeball must be the only place without a paper-cut. 

Might as well extend the deadline and resume some other time. She cleared the table of her mess and neatly filed them in order. Then a squared envelope slipped between the folders, which caught her attention. The wedding invitation plainly rubs her unattached state into her face. It's as if it pops into view just to remind her she's single, with no date and wouldn't likely to find one to marry. So everyone's getting married these days, big deal! In ten years time, she'll be a bookbinding spinster. Dismissing the depressing horrible prediction, she leaned down plucking the envelope off the carpet and withdrew the well-crafted card, to once again absorb the wonderful news. 

__

_Two hearts, one love_

_Two minds, one soul_

_Ellone Loire_

_And_

_Vedic Caraway_

_Request the honor of your presence _

_On Saturday, the twenty-seventh of August _

_At three-o'clock in the afternoon in _

_Deling City Mansion, which will be graciously hosted by_

_General Caraway and President Laguna Loire_

__

She had never expected a match between dear Sis and Rinoa's cousin, but she was glad nonetheless for Ellone to find herself a worthy partner. As unexpected comes, she glanced back at the said date. She had to gasp. Twenty-seventh of August? Today _is_ the twenty-seventh of August! Today _is_ the wedding! What was she thinking? No doubt that this will go down on her complaint list. 

"Holy crap! Today is the wedding!" Her exclamation reverberated within the library, which caused a few heads to snap up. She scrambled to collect her things while furiously chastising herself for being such an absentminded nimrod. Having no idea why she still bothers to collect the wretched paperwork, it should all be burned for causing her to neglect an important event. Before she could exit the library, a frantic, yet glamorously dressed Selphie met her and carrying what appeared to be the dress Quistis is supposed to wear for the occasion. 

"I found her!" Selphie yelled behind her shoulders, apparently to her fellow searchers whom she could only guess were dressed and ready too. "Quistis! We're leaving for Deling in five minutes!"

"But, I'm not ready." She rummaged through her brain for any excuses she might pull so she won't have to attend the ceremony. Besides, single women tend to get depressed on weddings. "You all should go on ahead, I don't want to hold anybody up."

"Oh no! You are coming even if I have to do your hair and make-up here in the library." Selphie advanced on her with a mission in mind.

With a defeated groan, she was now sure that somebody up there is absolutely against her. 

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**AN:** I'm sorry I had to redo this part. I didn't like how I had written Seifer before because I thought he was too melodramatic for his character. Maybe I thought I could re-write him, just as Square had really wanted to show him as; volatile and irrepressible. Quistis on the other hand, I wanted to present with a "cool exterior" when she'd spoken to Ty, "difficulty coping with frustration", when overloaded with work, and "depressed over trivial matters" whenlater on at the wedding. So stay tuned. Feel free to flame. 


	3. Chapter III

Chapter 3

It was the airy smog that welcomed him as soon as he stepped out of the station and into the glittered city of the darkened Deling skies. Now he knows for sure why the other towns are so small in comparison to Deling. It's because small town folks abandon their homes to contribute additional air pollution to bigger cities like this one. 

Aside from the contaminated air, thick enough to make him cough out his lungs, a room to crash was his other concern. If he intends to save what little money he has left, then the Galbadia Hotel would be highly unlikely, not to mention, a ride on the Deling City bus. There must be somewhere cheaper in a place like this, he thought as he began the march around the city in search for a place to stay, and as tired as he was, his head also insisted on spinning. 

He searched for what seemed like hours, and felt like he's been doing it all his life. Turning on a corner, he spotted a basement bar and inn that appeared to be in an indecent condition, which he passed by twice in one round. He couldn't agree with the place because of its shabby state. The sign were missing its letters, and the entrance was covered with peeled-off advertising posters over another. But since there wasn't anywhere he could find that is as cheap as this, and not to mention, these kind of places are all that he can afford for the time being, he's almost afraid he might just have to settle with this one. Besides, he'd stayed on more pitiable places than this. He's usually not this stingy on himself. But if he plans to keep steady, he's going to have to be pennywise. 

He squared his shoulders and marched downstairs only to disappear behind the swinging doors. The sudden shift of streetlights to the garish bulbs that are nakedly hanging from the ceiling had cast an ominous atmosphere over the place. Seifer spotted the bartender behind a long counter polishing glasses while the few men at the corner table gave him a few curious glances. The music sailing around the room seemed so distant coming from an old, beaten jukebox. The place was almost deserted that aside from an old drunkard and four poker players on the corner, the moths circling the remaining lights and flies over the tables were its only customers. Seifer carried a hostile demeanor, like he usually does when treading on unfamiliar territory, as he moved towards the bartender. 

"I believe you lease rooms in here." His statement didn't even bear an intonation of a question. Seifer never took into the habit of asking because he'd always assume he was right. 

"That depends on who's asking." The man was deliberately rude; he didn't even bother to look his way but continued to polish his glasses mindlessly.

"Well, I am." He stated. He also wanted to mention that with an attitude like that; he won't likely improve his business. 

"Who're you?" Clearly the man was being obstinate and making it evident that he isn't partial to the likes of him.

"Your customer." He didn't want to have to do this, but it always did the trick. Seifer placed his gun-blade on top of the counter and sat on an available stool.

"Weapons aren't allowed in here." From the look on his face, the bartender was noticeably taken aback by the impressive warning.

"I don't really plan on using it. Well, not unless I have to." He shrugged. Seifer played with the lapel of his coat, smugly aware of the other man's wariness. He wore a serious face so he won't see through his bluff.

"Two gils a night and that's as cheap as I can get." The statement was one of apparent defeat. He tossed a key towards Seifer's direction and went about to his task. "Upstairs. The third door to your right. The bathroom's at the end of the hall."

Seifer nodded and placed his payment on the countertop. "Could you keep the music down? I'm planning to get some sleep." He rose from his seat and strode towards his accommodation. Seifer only heard a crash of a glass as he disappeared into the darkness of the stairwell. 

Meanwhile

A burly man amongst the game table was surreptitiously studying Seifer from his corner. He had been waiting for this chance for a while and now that it's finally come, he'll give that bastard his just-deserves. After winning the first hand, he withdrew from the game leaving the three game players puzzled and leaving them with no chance of a rematch. Among them was his long-term companion, whom he beckoned to get up. Pushing back his chair he collected his winnings and strode towards the exit, and following behind him was his companion. 

"One more game and we would've had twice the amount we have now, you know." He pushed the door open for the both of them and stepped out into the darkening streets of Deling. Cheating at cards at different gaming tables may not be a qualified job, let alone legal, but that's all they seem to be eligible for. 

"To hell with that. We're finally getting what we really want." There was no mistaking the hint of malice in his voice.

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At fourteen hundred and a half-hours, Quistis was now sure that she was definitely going to a wedding. She had insisted them to go ahead without her, given that they're already running late. This only prompted Selphie to dress her in the Ragnarok, as they travel over the waters to Deling. Selphie managed to get her ready even as she was instructing Zell in operating the ship while the others were comfortably passing time in the passenger's lounge. 

"Looking good!" Selphie was so proud of her work that she had to put her on video. "Wow! I can't believe I managed all this in less than thirty minutes!" She made her way to her camera and began recording. "What do you think Zell?" 

The lenses focused itself clear and zoomed in on the pilot. "Squall would flip if he found out you turned his cockpit into a salon." As Zell maneuvered the Ragnarok, he sniffed the air, smelling the faint scent of hairspray that still clung. 

"He won't mind. Quistis is my only customer. Just wait til they see her!" Selphie applauded herself for her remarkable job. She turned the camera towards her subject and let the lenses travel from Quistis' toes to her head, in careful study of every new detail on her. Quistis, on the other hand seemed less than comfortable. 

"Selphie, I can't thank you enough for what you've done. Now, could you please turn that thing off?" There's just something about cameras that doesn't sit well with her. She wanted to complain about the shoes being the most painful that she's ever worn, the diamond necklace around her neck compelled her to scratch underneath, and not to mention, the indecent neckline that dipped too low for decorum, but she would rather not say anything to thwart Selphie's efforts. This would probably go down on her complaint list as well.

"Oh, but you look absolutely gorgeous! We won't be able to see you this way until another wedding comes up. When stuff like this happens, it needs to be taped." The camera roamed Quistis' figure once again. Selphie had to admire how the thin-strapped, diamond studded sandals elegantly displayed her delicately formed feet. She swelled with pride because she had picked out those shoes herself. God only knows Quistis would probably pick clogs if she were left to do her own shopping. Although the girls all wore the same peach-colored dress, Selphie had to agree that it looked best on Quistis. "Everyone at the wedding is going to want you."

"Yeaheveryone." She echoed her words sarcastically as if to ridicule that comment.

"Oh yeah. Now, let's head down to the passenger's lounge. I just have to show you off." Selphie kept her hold on the camera as she waved Quistis towards the lift.

"Selphie, they'll see me soon enough. And besides, who's going to supervise Zell's flying?" She'd probably say anything to keep her from painfully walking with the shoes she's wearing. Heaven knows how painful it is already standing. On top of that, she'd have to stand for the ceremony. She made a mental note to refuse any dance offers later on.

"Hey, my flying is fine. I'm beginning to feel like a professional." Zell was slightly wounded from the lack of confidence in his piloting, but he immediately brushed it off as he was enjoying himself. No wonder Selphie liked sitting here. Maybe this is why Squall and Irvine don't fly the Ragnarok. It could be too damn addictive. "I'm one hell of a pilot! Right, Selph?" He contradicted his statement when the ship suddenly jerked a little when it grazed a peak of a mountain. "Whoah!" Everyone instantly grabbed a hold of something. Quistis automatically held on to her dress, afraid that it might plunge lower, before she flopped onto a seat. 

"Zell!!" Selphie raced towards the pilot seat. "I thought I told you to keep it steady? Now, move! I'm taking over."

Or maybe that's why Squall and Irvine don't fly the Ragnarok. "Aww! This stinks!" He stomped away from the pilot's seat and plopped himself on a chair beside Quistis while he sorely watched Selphie seize the controls.

"Maybe you shouldn't have been too confident." Quistis mumbled, still clutching at her dress. The Ragnarok have never even experienced mild shaking, let alone grazing a mountain under Selphie's control. She realized that everyone in the passenger's lounge must be wondering if Selphie was drunk before flying. And just as she suspected, the lift disappeared, probably to come back up with either Squall or Irvine on it.

"If anyone asks tell them it was just air pockets." Zell said tautly.

"It was too strong to have been air-pockets." Quistis replied. She could now hear the lift coming back up. "Don't worry. Whatever damage you brought onto Squall's ship could be repaired. We're safe, aren't we? I bet he's just going to check if we're alright." She brought on her best reassuring smile.

"Just tell them Selphie was drunk." Zell snickered.

"Hey!" Their pilot suddenly reacted.

Just as expected, the lift escalated carrying, not only Squall, but Rinoa and Irvine in tow. It was Quistis who caught their attention first, amazed at her marvelous transformation. Rinoa smiled and winked her approval, while Squall caught Irvine's mouth open. 

"Quistis, you look nice." Irvine said flatteringly. "Even if this place smells like hair-spray, Selphie did a fine job."

Quistis caught her neckline once again and clutched it close to her chin. "Well, Zell was driving by the way."

"Argh! Quistis? I told you, air pockets. And Selphie was drunk!" 

"Either way, you'll never fly this ship again." Squall declared, leaving Zell pouting in his seat. "Is everyone alright?" Everyone nodded in response while Selphie waved her reply. 

"Well, here we are. I wonder where we can park this thing?" The Ragnarok was hovering over the city, leaving the area under it in shadows.

Squall stood beside the pilot to assist her. "Like we used to. Just outside the city. There's a car waiting for our arrival that will drive us to Deling Mansion."

It annoyed Selphie why Deling hasn't built a landing field anywhere. "I was rooting for a grand entrance." She muttered. "Well, here we go! Let's Pah-tay!" With careful expertise, she landed the airship at it's designated spot.

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Seifer's sleep was suddenly interrupted by his grumbling stomach. He was suddenly hungry. He couldn't avoid the images of mouth watering roasts and steaming rice that floated through his head, followed by a delectable picture of towering cakes and freshly baked pies. He won't get stuffed just by thinking about it. He needs to go downstairs. 

He swung his legs out of bed, reached for his boots underneath and made his way to his coat that draped over a nearby chair then he raced for the door. But just before he could twist the knob, it suddenly swung open and hit him the head. He scrambled to grab Hyperion, but his assailant had kicked him in the side. Even with the throbbing pain his attacker had inflicted on him, he managed to swing his legs around to trip the intruder and see his face as he toppled over.

"Biggs??" He held him at the collar while he pinned him to the ground. Seifer should've known. Biggs is the only buffoon, foolish enough to underestimate him. He hauled him up and threw him forcefully towards the ground then Seifer reached for his Hyperion. "I didn't know you wanted to die this much."

"I'd as well be deadnever got a single gil out of working for you. I used to be a Major of the Galbadian army.you asshole!" Biggs never quite got himself together since his service to the Sorceress Lapdog.' He never really landed a decent job after that whole event. The only compensation he can get is to have to teach the kid who made a fool out of him. "I can't believe I took orders from a snot-nosed punk!"

"You still can. Don't ever show your face to me again!" Hyperion was now threateningly aimed at Biggs' throat as Seifer held him by the collar. But before he could throw him out the window, Seifer didn't miss the smirk that crossed Biggs' face, and it was too late when he realized what it meant.

The last thing he saw was a rifle barrel from another unexpected assailant swinging down toward his head.

And then his world turned black as his towering form collapsed to the floor..

"Didn't your Garden ever tell you, not to have your back against the door?" With that said, Wedge helped Biggs to his feet as they now made their way towards Seifer's pockets and duffel bag.

"Who's laughing now? Ha! That punk thinks he knows everything." 

"If we only knew he's knocked out that easily, we should've done it five years ago!." Wedge snickered.

"Wait! Did you hear something?" Biggs was sure he heard something cluttered.

"Nope. You must've imagined it." Wedge reached for Seifer's gun-blade and eyed it amusingly. "How much do you think we can get for this?"

"I don't know. Go check what's outside. I'm sure I heard something."

Wedge obediently rose as if he were still taking orders from a major. He cautiously stepped outside the dimly lit hallway, clutching at his rifle tightly. There really wasn't anything to be worried about, because Biggs always hears things that aren't there. By the time he reached the end of the narrow hallway, he was convinced that Biggs was only paranoid. 

Wedge made his way back to tell Biggs he was only imagining things again, but he had to admit mistake at the last minute when suddenly he was caught off guard as an arm wound around his neck, and trapped in a painful headlock. He tried to scream for Biggs, but the sound never came, he tried to gasp for air, but it refused to come. Then finally, Wedge had no choice but to succumb into the darkness.

Meanwhile, Biggs had taken that he deemed everything of value to Seifer. Even the Hyperion was now in his possession. He wondered what could be holding Wedge up, and at the same time, he feared that he'd really heard something outside the hall that is now a threat to him. Warily, he withdrew the newly acquired gun-blade as he peered outside the door. He first looked towards the left end and saw Wedge's body lying in a heap. He never got a chance to see the right end as the same rifle barrel that struck Seifer knocked him out cold. Little did the bartender downstairs know, that his inn now held three unconscious men. 

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Author's Note: Biggs and Wedgehee hee, those guys remind me of the burglars from Home Alone. Pls. R&R.


	4. Chapter IV

****

Chapter 4

It was a spectacular ceremony. Exquisitely grand yet warm. The backdrop being a scenic sunset adding to the drama was amazingly picturesque, leaving the unattached group of females sighing in dreamy awe and the males, well; they're still men whom most of them had just wanted to get the droning service over and on with the food. But it was doubtless the perfect wedding all girls had dreamed of. Of course, no one had expected the newly wed couple to burst out laughing right after the minister had announced, "You may kiss the bride." Even when their lips touched, their shoulders were still shaking with mirth. Maybe there was some silent hidden humor that passed between Vedic and Ellone unknown to everyone. But nonetheless, the momentous occasion was filled with laughter all through the night as it drifted by with the moon.

Amidst all the dancing, the casual flirtations and heavy drinking, Quistis found herself sitting alone at a round table with a single lit candle floating at the center. The lights in the grand ballroom had been dimmed when the dance began, and she somehow found it…relieving. There was just something about the semi-darkness that gave her a sense of security. She was thankful for the blanket of shadow that engulfed her corner that somehow provided her the comfort not even fifty guests in the room could offer. Maybe it's because unknown to those who are enjoying the evening, she was keeping a silent observation of their activities. 

In the other end of the room, she spotted Ellone, whom had changed from her lovely and no doubt expensive, wedding dress, into a flattering cream-colored evening outfit, handing out memorabilia's as she thanked the guests for their presence. It was one of those crystalline swans that kissed at the beaks to form a heart on a fiberglass base, which, she estimated, must have cost the Caraways and Laguna a fortune. Quistis studied her graceful movements as she reached in the basket and distributed the miniature mementos when every time she'd speak to each person, her face would shine in luminous appreciation. She was radiant, and absolutely and blissfully happy. Vedic on the other hand, she noticed, was speaking to President Loire, but his eyes were focused on his bride, all the while wearing a wide goofy smile on his face, but Laguna didn't seem to notice, as he went on and distracted himself with his own monologue. She really is happy for Sis. It was decidedly a perfect match. But who could've guessed?

As celebrations go, it won't be the same without Angelo, running around and chasing a guest or two. He has been sporadic ever since the music began and the food was served, probably expecting one of the visitors to feed him under their tables. She released a muffled laugh when the dog's leash was caught under Zell's foot, who was dancing rather comically, but he doesn't seem to thinks so. Angelo stopped for a momentary scratch behind the ears when Zell accidentally stepped on his strap. When the dog broke into a sprinting run, Zell found himself sitting on his bottom and cursing the "bloody canine of uncertain breed". She didn't know who deserved her pity more; Zell, who was peevishly embarrassed in the middle of a dancing circle, or the dog, whose fate will probably end up on the grill of the Balamb Garden kitchen.

After that brief display of humorous entertainment, her gaze traveled towards a nearby window, just beyond the next table. It gave her half a view of the balcony outside. But before she was prompted to rise and get a tang of a little fresh air, she noticed two figures moving in the balcony. They made the balconies available for smoking after all, but she didn't want to get a whiff nicotine. But from what she could discern, the only occupant was a couple, who were obviously not smoking, but rather slow dancing. They look quite immersed in their own tranquility, oblivious to the raucous chatter combined with boisterous laughter from inside. Quistis felt as if she was intruding on their privacy, but she was involuntarily drawn to the enchantment that surrounded them. It was as if they were the only ones in Deling, without a care in the world, dancing to the very faint moonlight music that filtered out into the terrace. Maybe there will be another wedding planned soon. For them. Another ghastly event, similar to this one that would make her feel as miserable as she is at the moment. As she delved deeper into it, Quistis was struck with a disgusting pang of jealousy, and found herself hopelessly longing for something similar to happen with her someday. She was going to be sick. Appalled with her reaction, she tore her eyes away from Squall and Rinoa. She needed a drink.

Something strong perhaps.

Her voice warmed him like honey and drowned him like liquor. Wait, did he just compare her voice to some sort of cough syrup? He shook his head. They were alone, but not completely though. Inside, were the guests who danced and imbibed a little too much are still able to catch sight of them. Balconies like these are never really private. And he thought they could steal away without anyone noticing. It was his idea to break away from the celebration and out to the balcony, but it seems cities, such as Deling, could never really make the stars available for viewing.

He knew he wasn't really listening as she spoke because he was lost in his own reverie. But he can hear her voice even if as it caressed him like velvet, and lazily thought how it doesn't compare to the merest of her touches. Even the chilly breeze that fanned against him didn't alleviate the heat he began to feel. In nights like this, especially this night, with her dressed as she is, although he'd probably murder whoever designed the cut, other objectives came to mind besides hiding in the balcony, which was more or less an inadequate escape. As the images came he found himself lost. He envisioned himself sliding her gown slowly from her shoulders, tracing his fingertip along her collarbone and every curve of her body and she would beg for him to touch her more. Further down perhaps. He gave his head a mild shake. He couldn't possibly 'enlighten' _that_ vision there. There must be somewhere in the bloody mansion that isn't currently occupied where they could – 

"Earth to Squall, are you listening to me?"

He looked at her. Rinoa tilted her face towards him and raised an indignant brow. She looked very serious and a bit annoyed.

"Were you?" She slightly pushed herself from him.

He blinked. Twice.

"Listening to me?"

"Oh." He smirked. "No."

She rolled her eyes in irritation but didn't bother to reprimand him for his inattentiveness. "Where were you anyway?"

"I'll tell you later. What were you saying?"

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "I was just saying that even though how expensive this occasion was, it was all very worth it. I'm very pleased everyone's enjoying the night."

"That's nice, but I know something else that would please you," he said.

"Oh?" 

"Yes, even more." 

"Really…"

He wound an arm around her waist and pulled her even closer, while his other hand snaked its way at the base of her head as his fingertips began a stroking motion. With a very fiendish smile, he nudged her chin up until the tips of their noses touched. "I assume they still keep your bedroom here in the mansion intact?" He whispered.

"Squall! How much did you drink?" She asked incredulously. She was caught of guard by his audacity. Although she's aware he's been bold in their intimate exchanges before, but it's not always that he would behave this...naughty. Especially not when there's a huge gathering around. And yet, that's exactly what he's doing. She stared into his eyes and found them smoldering.

"Not much. I smelled your scent and that was enough for any man to be intoxicated." He could have told her he indulged a bit more than usual, but she'd only suspect his behavior is under the influence of alcohol. Actually, he's more lucid than ever. The corner of his mouth lifted into a mischievous smile. 

"What have you been reading? Have you been talking to Irvine?" She asked, unbelievably hearing the words pouring from his mouth.

He blinked again. He began to wonder if he'd just actually said one of Irvine's lines. "No, have you?"

"Not lately." She replied.

"Good, because he isn't included in any of my plans." 

"Irvine would be disappointed" She laughed.

"Him and the rest of Galbadia." He took hold of her wrist as he began to lead her back inside the ballroom. "Now where's your bedroom?"

"Now?" She stopped short before they reached the door.

"Unless you want an audience."

"You wouldn't!" She exclaimed, incredulity evident on her face as he pulled her back inside the ballroom.

"Exactly. That's why we need a room." This guy was dead serious.

"Shush. Not so loud." She poked him in the side lightheartedly as she stepped in front of him. Before they made it through the door, Squall managed to grab a bottle of champagne and together, they disappeared discreetly from the rest of the celebration.

Seifer woke up the next morning. His shoulders felt as if it was lifting stone. Who could have thought someone's head could be this heavy? It was his head, pounding like the very devil after all. He tried to shift on his side but found it equally painful. He tried to blink away the blurred images that insisted on doubling. Slowly, he raised his head and forced his torso to follow suit. He must have hit the floor hard because his back felt battered. His vision was still a bit hazy, but Seifer managed to make out a few specks of colors circling over him. Where the hell was he anyway?

Blinking a bit rapidly, his surroundings finally materialized before him. He's definitely sitting outside. As soon as he regained full consciousness, Seifer tried to remember the event of the night before. What little memory of what happened drifted back slowly, but when he tried to recall how on earth he could have been felled and outsmarted by two bumbling idiots, he was still dumbfounded. He cursed at himself for being so susceptible to their attacks. He did use to have authority over them, and it was more bruise to his pride than to his backside. His first instinct was to grasp Hyperion and hunt those two clowns down. He was surprised they left him alive, considering how much he'd also like to kick himself right now. But then again, those two couldn't even kill a snake even if it strikes them in the eye. 

Once the painstaking process of getting himself onto his feet was complete, Seifer deduced, along with his gun-blade, that he was thrown out of the inn. Actually, from where he is standing, out of the city. He dusted his rear and felt for bruises. He couldn't really blame the innkeeper, knowing as much as he, that he'd hate someone like himself to be his customer, and besides that, his payment of two gils had already expired. He did pay for one night only. But cast outside the city? Was he even allowed to do that?

He could only guess the authorities found him lying on the streets, believing him to be inebriated, and tossed him out. Deling should have a big slogan at the entrance saying, "Welcome to Deling. We've got booze but no drunkards," with a picture of Caraway smiling with two thumbs up. Funny how that illustration seems very appropriate. 

Obviously, now that he realized it, coming here was a mistake, but then again, he did think that Deling was an acceptable kind of town. But he'd rather burn his hair than go back to a place where he's not wanted. A man's pride could only endure so much. He held his head high, pointed his chin up and braced his shoulders, even if it hurts a little, collected his pride as well. Seemingly enough, he recognized a trail made on the dirt that was his, scattered and apparently, sullied. He grunted in annoyance. Who ever tossed him out must've had fun scattering his few measly belongings. 

It was puzzling to think how anyone can exact vengeance so mildly, given that Biggs, along with Wedge, despised him to the core, weren't even bothered to take any of his property. Not that anything he has, with the exception of Hyperion, which he began to wonder where, was something of value to anyone. But if they really meant revenge, then the least they could've done was make his life even just little bit more miserable. Seifer sniggered. Well, he couldn't be more thankful for dumb criminals.

He began the task of collecting his possessions, plucking them from the ground and stuffing them in his duffel bag, but when he turned his gaze up, he spotted his gun-blade case six meters away. It took all his self-restraint not to drop everything and run. For one rigid moment, his breath was caught in his throat. Something bitter scratched at the back of his tongue and at the same time compelled him to scream. It was a moment in his life he never thought he'd suspect, but it was there as much as he hated to admit it. As chilly as the morning breeze was, his forehead managed to break a sweat. It was suddenly very difficult for him to swallow. There seem to have a lump in his throat the size of a cue ball.

__

Please be there. 

The lid was closed, he noticed. His legs began to move listlessly towards it. His steps drew closer and he dreaded every inch. As he approached the encasement, glinting in the first rays of morning, the grip in his stomach grew tighter. 

__

Oh God, please be there. 

By the time he reached the black case, a vein jumped in his neck as he slowly unlocked and lifted the lid. The breath he didn't realize he was holding escaped in a heave. 

There lay his most prized possession, his partner, and his protector, untarnished and intact. He found himself breathing again, although a bit uneven. But it was in those few seconds, when Seifer was struck with the truth of his own vulnerability, something that was kept hidden in the far corners of his consciousness but wouldn't allow it to surface. Until now.

It was that sickening sensation of helplessness. Seifer was disgusted to even think about it, but it took every ounce of his brainpower to push it back in the far recesses of his psyche. He hated it. A man such as he should have more strength and resilience than just a piece of metal to survive on. But that's what he has been for the past five years. Hyperion was the symbol of his dependence, his fragility. It was an appalling spectacle for someone to see that a man like him could be brought down on his knees when devoid of the scrap of metal that was his means for survival. Only the strong lasts they say, but for someone independent, he has to be strong for himself alone. It was one of the reasons he distanced himself from people that no matter what the situation was; it was only himself he can depend on. But it was at that moment, when he realized, he was wrong. It was the gun-blade all along. Hyperion had kept him alive. He probably couldn't have gotten this far or lived this long without it. It was the weapon, an extension of his arm that guarded his existence, and earned him a living. It was a revolting thought and he despised it. He refused to believe himself the inferior. It was _he_ who owns Hyperion, and _he_ alone can maneuver its distinguished attacks. What is a weapon good for without the skill of the man who wields it? Hyperion just made it easier for him. Nothing would have been different. But that sickening sensation just minutes ago nagged at him like a blood blister. 

He snapped the lid shut, and forced his concentration on his next agenda. It wouldn't do him any good to immerse his thoughts too much on his feelings. There are more pressing matters that needs to be dealt with. For example…_Where to now? _It's highly unreasonable to turn around and head back to Deling, because he certainly wouldn't want to be in a city where he is definitely unwanted. For crying out loud, he didn't even have a chance to take a bath, let alone eat anything at all. Which was his plan before he was attacked. Attacked! He never even imagined himself being attacked. Poor fellow just made a death wish if he attempts to do so. His stomach growled. God, he's hungry. 

Although the prospect of travelling again seemed too daunting, it isn't quite difficult to find a place where he's more likely to feel comfortable without spending a lot of money. Back to Timber he suppose. It isn't so odd to find himself more compatible with gutter towns than in a sophisticated glitter of big cities. Maybe that's why he avoided Esthar like the plague. Or for other reasons that he's too infamous in that part of the globe anyway. 

Seifer glanced around one last time and satisfied when he didn't find anything else scattered that was his. He braced himself for another aching train ride and stepped out of the shadows of the city walls. But as soon as his foot marched in front the other, that was when he saw it. It was hidden from his view before, but now, it loomed before him as if it was a dragon rising from the flames. He dropped his bag, and then his jaw. 

So this is the Ragnarok in all its glory. 

That means Puberty Boy and, or Company are here. Either that or this is a duplicate make of the ship. He twisted his head around, looking for any signs of their presence. It doesn't seem that they are anywhere around. His attention returned to the ship. Maybe they are still inside. But then, they should have gotten off already, given that he didn't hear the ship land, and it's possible that it's been sitting here for quite a while. Or since last night, in view of the fact that he didn't find any footprints, aside from his own, on the dirt. 

He threw caution in the air, picked up his bag and approached the Ragnarok to study it further. He's never really seen it in close proximity and Seifer had to admit that it made a striking impression, emblazoned by the rising sun behind. It really was a magnificent sight. Any man with a fascination for a nice piece of appliance would sure be more than awestruck. He's not that kind of man though, but he can recognize fine engineering if he sees one. He ran a free hand along its furnished planes as his reflection twisted on its curves.

"Aren't you a nice little package?" He whispered, not really expecting an answer from the aircraft, but nonetheless began to wonder if it's designed to talk back. It didn't.

He circled around its perimeters and admired its brilliant craftsmanship. He imagined himself scratching his insignia, the Hyperion cross, with "Seifer was here" on the paint, but thought against it since he won't be able to witness the looks on their faces if ever Squall and friends might happen to see the defacement. Besides, he's outgrown those childish whimsies, even if it amused him a little to irritate Puberty Boy.

He didn't much want to see him. Heck, he didn't much want to see any of them. Just when he was about to turn around and leave for Timber, it was too late for him to avoid the hatch which had suddenly burst open, so quickly, only to hit him in the back of the head. Seifer only had the chance to hear a woman screaming in panic before he slowly fell into unconsciousness. Again.

"Oh God! Oh God! I just I killed somebody!" She didn't mean to kick the door open in frustration only to knock somebody out cold. Hell, she didn't even know somebody was out there until she heard the man grunt. Is she being punished for last night?

"I'm so sorry! God, very, very sorry!" She scurried, almost half ran, towards her accidental victim to make sure she didn't injure him more than just a bump in the head. Quistis reached for his shoulders as she slowly turned him over as shock crossed her features in swift alacrity. 

"Seifer? Is that you?" Either that or an older twin. Of course he didn't utter a response to confirm his identity. She did knock him out cold after all. What the heck is she going to do? And what on earth was he doing under the Ragnarok in the first place? She looked around nervously, looking for any witnesses, passersby, anybody. 

Nobody. 

There were only a few options. Either she drag the man, who was almost twice her size, in an inn in Deling, or she could wait for him to come around and drag himself there instead, which perhaps would take hours. Or maybe she could just leave him there and go back to the hotel, as he lie in a heap until her friends would find him eventually. Of course she'd feign ignorance about his presence. But naturally, they'd wonder why he had chosen the shade of the Ragnarok to sleep under in the middle of the afternoon. She looked at him, then towards the main gates of Deling, then back at him again. Oh, drat! 

****

Author's Note: I'm terribly sorry everyone. I know I haven't updated for such a very long time. I have been computerless for the past four months or so. But I do hope you've just enjoyed reading the latest chapter. Don't worry, I'm quite finished with the next chapter and will be uploaded soon. I do hope I'll get some feedbacks on this. Once again, I'm truly very sorry about the ultimate, major delay.


	5. Chapter V

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Chapter 5

The morning drifted into early afternoon as the sun began to beat into high temperature, and Seifer still has not regained consciousness. Of all the things she could possibly be doing at the moment, for example having brunch with the elite society of Deling, but rather Quisits found herself in an odd circumstance, dragging his limp body halfway inside the Ragnarok while she recalled last night's occurrence. 

She remembered retiring early from the party as she gave her best regards to the bride and groom. She wasn't sorely missed really, given that on her way out, everyone had "someone" for company. Immediately as predicted, she sensed illness on its way to her stomach. It didn't take long for her to catch sight of Squall and…errhm, heading upstairs with a bottle of champagne in tow. Only a grat wouldn't have a clue as to what they were up to. She wondered if those two knew the meaning of the word, subtlety. 

As disgusting as she thought their behavior was, Quistis certainly proved that they are not the only people on this planet who can have a full bottle of champagne and have a blast at the same time. By God, she did that even without a partner. And with all the cunning and skill, polished in the education of Garden training, Quisits acquired herself a cold, unopened bottle of bubbly and retreated to the sanctuary of the Ragnarok to waste away in alcohol-ville. 

This morning, she woke up, groggy and cranky. It was a little too bad that there weren't anyone around she could snap at. But then again, it would have been better if nobody saw her in her current state of irritability. Quistis hadn't really indulged herself in spirits before, but as she suffered from the aftermath, she decided she wouldn't likely to do so again.

Her hand was clutching the empty bottle, the obvious cause of her present condition, while the other reached to massage her temple, fighting the throb from reaching her eyes. She tossed the bottle aside, and somewhat cursed the Shumis for making such a concoction, although aware that she was entirely responsible. Well, make that irresponsible, she reminded herself. 

She staggered her way around the Ragnarok, barefoot, looking for her shoes. The blasted shoes, if the kind she wore should be called as such, ought to be burned to spare women the pain of sore feet. Only if Selphie hadn't insisted on paying for them she would have burned them to a crisp already. When she couldn't locate either shoe, she grew frustrated and kicked the hatch a bit more fiercely than estimated. It was a little too late to realize that someone was present, when that someone was already knocked flat into the ground. 

And here she was, hauling that someone, who happened to be a former student of the past, inside the shelter of the Ragnarok from the angry sun. She knew it really wasn't reason enough for her to have rendered him unconscious, but dear God did he stink. She steered her nose away from him, thinking that she would need to wash her hands clean since she was pulling him via armpits. Noticing how his shirt was glued to his skin with sweat and his hair in oily clumps, she realized how much this guy needed a bath. Badly. 

It was strange that she should think of his hygiene, when she needs to worry about returning to Deling without having to leave Seifer should he not recuperate. That is, if he recuperates. Among other things, she was unsure of the manner she was supposed to regard him. After all, she hadn't seen nor heard from and of him for nearly five years, since the Ultimecia episode, and that was a long enough time to have estranged Seifer to her. And probably vice versa. Seifer was a thorn on the side; yes, that was how she remembered him as. A prickly little memory that later grew insignificant. But looking at him now, he's nothing more than just a stranger. He's still Seifer by name and face, but everything else about him is foreign. 

And that's how he's going to remain to her. Foreign. Because as soon as she deposited him on the nearest chair when they reached the cockpit, she headed straight for the radio. She dialed the necessary connection and waited for a response.

No sooner a chirpy voice rang from the speakers.

"Ragnarok?" It was Selphie. She always kept the receiver, the device that can order Ragnarok about, close at hand.

"Selphie! It's Quistis. Where are you?" 

"We're at the hotel lobby. What are you doing in there?"

Sweat began to break out. "Actually, I left my…uh lens container you see. I couldn't possibly go to bed leaving it in a glass of water without somebody accidentally drinking it. So, I thought I'd go back for it, then I thought I'd as well spend the night here instead." Lens container her foot, indeed. She doubt Selphie would actually buy her story. It's more than common knowledge that Quistis is the most highly systematic person in Garden, and if she is to lose or leave something behind it certainly deserves a tight brow knitter. But it was a long shot, if Selphie happens to be too smashed to even care.

"Oh sure. Lens container. Right. Like I'd really buy that. Come on we all know why you're calling. And I'm not hanging up unless you admit." Obviously, she isn't. 

Quistis was scared for a moment when she detected smugness in her tone. Dear God, does she know she killed Seifer? Well, not killed really, but almost. What she really wants is a car brought over so she could drop Seifer at the nearest Deling inn and have a decent lunch. She prayed, dearly prayed that Selphie wouldn't pry further. What to say? What to say?

"I just need a cab brought around."

"No biggie. But tell me, you're bringing back more than you bargained for, that's why you need a car. Am I right?"

Dear Hyne! She couldn't have known! 

"Selphie, listen to me, you mustn't tell anyone." 

"Quisty, just a few of us knows. And _you-know-who_ was seen too."

"Who's I know who?"

"Don't act like you don't know, you were there. _He_ was seen. God knows what _he _was doing." 

Oh Hyne! Seifer was seen? When? What did he do? This is insane. How could they know? Nobody was around. Nobody! She looked everywhere. Or she thought she did. She glanced at his slackened form and noticed a deep cut, no doubt she caused, open just above his brow. She wished she knew what he was doing outside the Ragnarok before she grounded him. 

"I thought I could get away." She muttered more to herself than to Selphie. She kept her nerves in check. How guilty did she sound? 

"But you didn't." Finally, Selphie took pity on her. "Look, everybody deserves a good knocker once in a while. I can't blame you. And in a way, _he _deserved it too." It was surprising to hear such nonchalance in that single statement.

What is she saying? Does Selphie think she really hate Seifer that much? Is that how everyone feels towards this…this fallen "knight"? (Considering of course, that she's the one who felled him earlier). Among her friends, Zell might still have reasonable grounds to hold a grudge against him, Seifer did make his childhood rather difficult, but Selphie? Well, the attack on Trabia does speak for itself. Maybe she's the only one who feels a little remorse towards this tragic figure of a man. Seifer is no more to her than just a part of a memory. A mere stranger. She would feel the same remorse if she knocked out a fellow SeeD, a student, a fisherman in FH, anyone! 

"Selphie…it's not his fault, you know that."

"It's not really a _fault, _if you know what I mean. Any guy will be tempted enough to pull a little romance when there's a bottle of bubbly free for the taking, and not to mention a room at Deling Mansion. I still can't imagine Squall as a smooth talking charmer. Irvine and Zell are having a field day over it." 

Squall? Goodness, Selphie was talking about last night! All along they were talking about two completely different issues. And here she was, on the verge of actually mentioning Seifer. Thank the gods Selphie mistook her "_his_"for Squall. That was a relief. A very good relief indeed. 

"Yes…imagine that." It was all she could say, if not a little too nervously.

"Alright, I'll call a cab to send over, since I know you've got a heavy hangover to bring with. We did find out you somehow got yourself a bottle. And don't deny it, because there was a bottle count this morning and you were missing in action."

She let out a small sigh of defeat. "A lesson learned is a weapon earned."

"Good of you to realize. So I'll see you later?"

"Yes. Later, Selph." And their conversation ended.

As if coming home from a mission, she landed heavily on a seat adjacent to Seifer.

That whole exchange with Selphie spooked her a little, but it seems Seifer will be out of her hair soon and she's going to have a nice big lunch after all. Her head was still battered by that god-awful drink, but it wasn't so much that her judgment was affected. But if her common sense and good judgement was still in function, then why is it that she found herself unable to look away from the sleeping golden Adonis across from her? 

"Adonis my a-" Quistis caught herself instantly. She's not one to reduce herself, under any circumstance, to utter an unpleasant form of vocabulary. She is an instructor after all. And she was about to talk to herself, again! She swore off alcoholic beverages forever. 

Quistis almost forgot about the cut she'd inflicted on him. And to think that she was staring at him for a while she didn't even realize it was still there. As quickly as she remembered, she sprung to her feet and looked at it more closely. Aside from the bruising that formed around, it wasn't so bad, she thought, that it needed stitching. She has to charge it to experience that she'd seen worse cases. This one didn't even warrant a cringing. With dutiful care, she made use of an emergency kit close by, to tend to his wound. She sniffed the vial and detected a hint of alcohol. Definitely a disinfectant, she thought. She carefully dabbed a small portion of it on the cut with her fingertip and she could almost swear she saw the corners of his mouth twitch a little. The sting must have reached him through his unconsciousness. It should be a good sign that his senses are still running. But by the time he would wake up, he won't even know who caused him the injury. And so the term "_don't even know what hit you_" can be applied. Oh sure, he'll remember being hit, but he wouldn't likely suspect it was her. Would he? And even if he might, the moment he realizes it, she's long gone from Deling and its doubtful he'd pursue her. She did, after all, look after his wound, and the patch of bandage on his forehead to prove it, that absently says an apologetic recompense. She put away the small box of first aid kit back to its compartment and returned to her seat across Seifer. 

This was one situation she didn't picture herself in; playing nurse to one of the most bull-headed people she's encountered, but this time, the injury was caused by her, not by himself. She reminded herself that this Seifer might not be the same boy who usually gets himself in a spot, and to compare him to the Seifer of the past would be unjustified. Just one look at him, and she could tell that he's become a man. 

A large man. A very good looking man at that. Anybody who isn't blind can see. At first glance, he was a far stretch from the Seifer she vaguely remembered because his once smooth and youthful features were now replaced by the hard and rough planes by time. Gone were the mischievous glint at the corners of his eyes and the playful lift at the curve of his mouth. He just suddenly looked haggard, so tired. It was as if he grew older more rapidly than his age. Or than her, considering she has a few months on him. 

But why, for heaven's sake, does she find him so damn attractive now? Oh, just great. Is it possible that the stupid champagne was kicking in again? It was a good thing she decided to drown in alcohol in the safe confines of the Ragnarok otherwise she would've granted a kiss to any besotted fool at the party last night. 

A kiss. 

Hyne, how long ago did she have one of those? She could barely remember her first, which was also her last, let alone actually remembering how to kiss at all. It's that damned wedding, she told herself. The kind of occasions single women should try to avoid. It makes one hope for somebody to kiss too. 

Hold on. She's Quistis Trepe. Levelheaded and rational. She has more important duties than wait for someone to kiss or have someone kiss her. It was all nonsense. She can damn well kiss anyone she pleased at anytime she wants anyway. Pining for romance she can never have will only make her look even older than Seifer.

Her eyes were suddenly fixed on him.

Seifer.

She can kiss anyone she wants.

At anytime.

This is insane! What in blazes was she thinking? Just because he's conveniently unconscious doesn't mean she can take advantage of the poor sod. It's not going to happen, her mind screamed. A woman of her station just doesn't act like some shameless ninny. Even if there weren't anyone around, she would still know what she had done. 

She's the only one who'll know.

Seifer won't. 

And this might be the only chance she'll get in a lifetime. Her life, being that in Balamb doesn't guarantee these kinds of opportunities. She knows everyone who comes in and out of Garden, hardly any stranger. And Seifer is a stranger she'll never likely see again. Nor he would her. 

The perfect crime.

Oh pooh! Kissing is hardly a crime. And if it is, there are hardly any witnesses. What's one kiss? A peck on his closed mouth, just to know how it would feel like, since she can't remember anyway. Besides, he's not so very hard to look at. It would be as if she'd kiss his 'boo-boo' away like granted to any child who stumbled. Yes, that would be the correct equivalence. 

Quistis silently rose from her seat and cautiously moved towards him. Hyne, was she nervous. There was no mission she's ever tackled that she felt more compelled to run from. She stepped at a snail's pace as if fearful that Seifer might suddenly jump out of his seat. 

He didn't. Seifer was still sleeping like the dead. Was that a snore? If it was, she ignored it. Quistis leaned in closer and her breath was shot out of her. It didn't take longer than a second for her to notice how his lips were slightly parted in a charming queue and that his lashes, though unusually long for a man, but not on him, fanned out against his cheeks. It was hard to believe that anyone this beautiful can possibly exist. Even more unbelievable was that she actually think so. Surprisingly, her head moved of its own accord, and her lids suddenly felt heavy. It was as if there was a strong magnetic force coming from Seifer that drew every part of her down to him. He was practically giving off heat. 

Quistis had no control over her movements as her head leaned forward. She felt as if some higher power had entered her form and caused her to tip her head closer. Sooner than she'd care to realize, her lips came into contact with his. And whatever enchanting force that had taken over her was gone and all that was left was her, because she was unaware of everything else but his lips. It was firm. And unbelievably warm. With her lips still on his, her hand had mindlessly traveled to his cheeks and felt the rough bristles of stubble underneath her fingertips. 

And her lips felt his tongue.

Quistis nearly jumped out of her skin and leaped away from Seifer quicker than the lightning she half expected to strike her then and there. Thankfully, the seat was still behind her to break her fall.

What on earth was that? She could have sworn that his tongue had darted out of his mouth. Hyne, was he awake? Was Seifer playing dead? If it was possible for someone to die of mortification, then surely she'd be the first to prove that theory. Oh Hyne! How shameless does he think of her now? Seifer must be silently laughing at her in his mind's eye. 

She cowered in her seat, feeling more threatened by a motionless Seifer, than the devil himself. Quistis craned her neck and studied him closely. He certainly looks more unconscious than a rock. But she could have sworn his tongue slid out of his mouth! 

"Seifer?" She squeaked. God, did her voice sound small. If he happens to answer, then she'd surely make herself ready for suicide. She hadn't felt more foolish in all her life than Zell would care to admit about his dancing. 

Quisitis almost sighed with relief when it seemed like an eternity of silence, and then, unexpectedly Seifer made a response.

He snored. 

****

Author's Note: I sincerely apologize for the major delay. Although I have a fairly good excuse which is; I did not have any sort of internet connection for a while. Chapter Six will follow shortly. I promise, within the end of this week. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll accept any form of feedbacks, may it be a complimenting review or a flame. Thank you for your usual kind patience. - Caterchipillar


	6. Chapter VI

****

Chapter 6

Somehow that snore sounded a bit too mocking. It reverberated all through out the blasted cockpit. Oh, the man is asleep alright. Quistis made certain of it, even if it seemed rather callous when she jabbed a finger where his shoulder and arm met and banged on a few hollow metallic objects she could find. There was no way a person with a nervous system can sleep through that, but amazingly Seifer did. And he just snored even louder. 

Dear God! Was she crazy for pulling such a stunt, and here she thought she was sober. Maybe there was something in the champagne that triggered a malfunction in her brain as a side effect, but try as she might, Quistis forced herself to stop thinking, because her thoughts just seem to simply betray her. 

Quistis made a mental note that as soon as she returned to Balamb she'll have to check into Dr. Kadowaki's clinic and undergo a psycho-analysis to make sure she hadn't gone completely deranged. Because what she had just done earlier must certainly be an evident symptom of insanity. 

She had just kissed Seifer, in all his sweaty and foul-smelling glory! Of all people. Where has all her common sense gone? 

Quistis had to get away from there. She needed a diversion to busy herself with while she waited for their ride to arrive instead of glaring at the golden haired frustration in front of her. She thought of heading down outside, inhale a pack of air that would somehow flush the alcohol out of her system and while out there, she might as well retrieve Seifer's things, which he had dropped upon the accident.

The lift carried Quistis down smoothly to the hangar. But as soon as her foot touched the floor, she suddenly realized the metal beneath her bare feet. She wasn't wearing any shoes the whole time she attended to Seifer. Why hadn't she noticed that before? Quistis thought that maybe the hangar is just a rather cool spot in the Ragnarok. Not cool, exactly, but a lot less warmer than where she had been.

Extremely hot, where Seifer is. 

Quistis willed herself from smacking her face. This has got to be some surreal dream. Why must her every thoughts go back to that blasted man? And the most disturbing part was, that not one of them were the least bit unappealing. Even if this was a dream, then that would mean her subconscious is her worst enemy.

She couldn't have been more than happy to step outside, because the farther away she got herself from the cockpit, the more Seifer's snore seemed to fade. The Ragnarok practically shook with the noise that Quistis was afraid it might lift off on its own. She welcomed the afternoon breeze even if it was somewhat of a balmy draft, but it was definitely a lot less warmer than inside.

Quistis managed to get his things, which were not much; a duffel bag and his gun-blade, inside. Why he still carried the weapon, didn't bother her to the least, but she had a keen curiosity regarding Seifer's attachment to it. Although she felt a strong compulsion to browse through his things, she didn't much want to discover anything else about him. In fact, she didn't want anything to do with him. As much as she hates to admit it, he's a disturbance she can't afford to endure at the moment. 

It won't be long before the cab arrives and Seifer's finally long gone, and then she can at last take on the day as if nothing has happened. Quistis treated herself to the idea of cool sheets sliding between her limbs, stretched out on a soft bed and a pile of plush pillows and the image looked so very inviting and promising indeed, that she might hole up in her room for days.

Suddenly, her head snapped up at the distinct sound of an approaching engine.

Relief almost crept up from her stomach when she spotted a vehicle moving towards her. 

It has to be the hired cab Selphie promised to send. 

It drew closer. 

The clear sound of an engine was loud and it practically roared. Wait a minute! Cabs do not roar! If this one did, then the driver must be highly reckless and she'll certainly not pay for her fare.

Then, as it became apparent to her, the vehicle, a shiny, red sports car, finally halted at the front of the entrance, from where she stood, still barefoot. Quistis' mouth gaped open at the sight before her. There, sitting at the driver's seat was Irvine with Selphie on his right, while Rinoa sat in the backseat who was flanked between Squall and Zell on either side. Complete astonishment displayed across her face and nobody seems to give a damn.

The car door released and Irvine emerged as the others followed suit. "So? What do you think?" he inquired with a playful smile. The forceful sound of the door connecting back to the latch bit into her ears.

She was wordless. 

Quistis' eyes flashed on Selphie, who was grinning quite widely.

They weren't supposed to be here! She needed a hired cab! A paid insignificant somebody, who can help her pull out that ogre, sleeping rather soundly in the cockpit, so she can move about with her day and the rest of it, and hopefully, days after that, with no one the wiser and no further questions or explanations to throw back to someone who'd dare ask her the details. This has got to be some cruel joke the deities are playing on her. It has to be. There's no other reason behind it.

Well, she's not laughing. If she were, she'd want to die from it.

Selphie began to approach her. "Surprise," she said. 

Quistis' eyes were still on the car. Zell and Squall unloaded their baggage while Rinoa held the trunk open for them when it dawned on her what exactly is happening. The comprehension had hit her full force that her eyes might suddenly pop out of their sockets. They were going home.

Irvine removed his hat and stopped short in front of her when he noticed that she was troubled by the idea of an exceptionally expensive car before her. "Quistis, are you alright?" 

When she made no response, Irvine laid a hand on her shoulder as if it might bring her back to the present. "Hey, relax," he cooed. "We didn't blow off our life savings on the car, if that's what you're worried about."

Clearly, Irvine mistook her surprise of their presence with that of the car's. Finally, Selphie decided to clarify her about it. "It's Squall's."

"Squall's?" she echoed, although Quistis desperately wanted to learn why she's looking at a sports car and not at a hired cab. "That's Squall's?"

Squall winced at the mention of his name. Obviously, he didn't want to speak about the issue, or he would've joined their little tryst already, but instead, he continued to unload their bags. It was mind-boggling how their baggages fit in the compartment.

"Yeah. It's another one of Laguna's _gifts_." Irvine continued, putting more emphasis in the word, 'gifts', as he made quotation marks with his fingers. It came as no surprise to anyone when a package or some sort of stipend was forwarded to Squall from Esthar, but this time, a car was something beyond overboard. A SeeD's monthly salary couldn't even begin a down payment for something exclusive as an Esthar manufactured sports car.

Quistis had to raise the question, "Isn't Ellone the one who got married?"

"Believe me when I say that her _presents_, mind the plural form, are nothing compared to _that_." Selphie's head jerked in the direction of the car. Then she leaned in closer and whispered in a low tone, "But Squall doesn't want it. You know how anal he can get when it comes to Laguna. We practically had to threaten him with another festival to let us drive it."

"Hell, he won't even let us take it without him coming along, making sure it's in good condition when he gives it back. Ha! And like a good friend that I am, offered to have it to save him the trouble, but he said he'd rather return it to Laguna." Irvine grumbled. He looked back towards the trio standing behind the car and said, "They're making the trip back to Deling."

Quistis' eyes darted towards the aforementioned vehicle as the light of optimism decided to shed a light on her. Squall had to return the car! And they're probably coming back with a cab. Brilliant! The situation wasn't hopeless after all. At the moment of Irvine's complaint, she didn't know whether to kiss the fool for his announcement or quickly grab Seifer and make a run for the car.

She had to think quickly. "I uh…Let me get my shoes first. Can you wait out here?"

Selphie made a disgruntled snort. "You've got to be kidding. It's a hundred degrees out here."

"Then it's got to be twice as hot inside." Irvine intervened; who was fanning himself with his hat. "You must have had some party that you lost your shoes."

"I did not lose them, thank you very much. I know exactly where they are." Quistis lied.

"Oh good. You were about to give Selphie here a fit of apoplexy from losing three hundred gils." 

Quistis' eyes bulged and turned them on to Selphie.

"Irvine!" Selphie screeched. "Did you have to be so crass? You alone are enough to drive me to murder!"

"Surely, a pair of shoes wouldn't cost that much. Does it?" Quistis held on to the chance that Irvine could have been joking.

"Of course not!" Selphie insisted.

Quistis turned to Irvine, realizing that he probably knows more and would likely reveal something.

"If not counting the taxes of course, it would be much higher " he managed to say.

"Irvine! How could you? I don't see why you want Quistis in such discomfort," Selphie scolded.

"Quisty isn't the least bit uncomfortable." He looked in Quistis' direction. "Are you?"

Quistis shook her head. "Um, no." She didn't want to add on to Selphie's distress although the thought of having to pay her back did cross her mind.

"See? Besides, it isn't her I'm trying to annoy," he said, giving Selphie one of his trademark winks.

"Oooooh!!! You, Mr. Kinneas, are digging an early and shallow grave!" Selphie exclaimed and with that, she turned on her heels and walked away.

"Where are you going?" Irvine called out.

Selphie swung her head in their direction and said, "I'm going to check if Zell damaged anything vital to the ship." Trust Selphie to regain her composure and work on something else when highly irritated.

When Selphie disappeared under the Ragnarok, Quistis put her best reprimanding-instructor-look and glared at Irvine. "You mister, are an idiot."

"If you want to talk to Zell, he's right over there." Irvine pointed over his shoulder and donned one of his charming smiles, the one that can't make a person stay mad at him for very long.

"I heard that!" Zell roared from the car, but both Irvine and Quistis ignored him since Zell won't likely say anything more on the subject, but rather continue with what he's doing.

"How could you mention something about the cost of women's shoes? Now I don't think I'll ever feel comfortable going to the shops with Selphie. I doubt she'd even let me talk to her about paying her back." Quistis crossed her arms and waited for his reply.

"I thought you said you weren't uncomfortable," he muttered.

"That is going to the shops with her," she fumed. Quistis didn't have time for this. Somehow she needs Irvine off the Ragnarok even if she has to kick his sorry hide out of there. Maybe she can pick at his guilt, if he had any, and make him apologize to Selphie. 

"It would probably take me a week to forgive you, but I suggest you start your crusade of earning Selphie's clemency."

"Aaah…Quisty, how little you know. I'd hardly call it a crusade, you know. Then again, the sweetness of all arguments is the making-up part," he said breathlessly.

"Hey guys! We'll be back in a few minutes!" Zell boomed from the backseat of the sports car while Squall started the engine as Rinoa waved from the right hand passenger's side. They drove off, leaving dust in their trail and four baggages resting on the ground. 

Quistis waved back and prayed that they would take their sweet time. 

"Well, now. Took them long enough. Aren't you supposed to look for your shoes?" Irvine reminded her.

"Aren't you supposed to talk to Selphie?" she shot back. Heck, she was only making sure that everyone was somewhere else when she dislodge Seifer out of the cockpit before it becomes occupied by her friends.

Finally, Irvine left her with a salute and began his quest of earning Selphie's forgiveness. As relationships go, she'll never understand those two even if she was given another lifetime.

Quistis retraced her steps back anxiously and turned towards the lift. 

Why must every turn of events let her down at every inopportune moment? There has to be some way to stall their departure. Maybe if she intentionally break one of the ship controls they would be forced to stay and make the repairs. But the idea had a downside. Quistis will be perforated by a thousand needles of guilt, notwithstanding the whole ordeal of causing her friends the awful event of staying at Deling for another day. Not that the place was terrible, it was the fact that they were forced to socialize with the city's most sophisticated and utterly unpleasant company of elite society. Their host being that is, after all, General Caraway. It wasn't any wonder that they decided, and wanted, to leave the next day. 

Quistis found Seifer still, undoubtedly, unconscious on the seat where she left him. She looked him over and estimated that in all probability, he weighs more than he looks. It would take all the intensity of her muscles to haul Seifer out of the cockpit and into somewhere inconspicuous, and where his snore could not possibly be heard! Quistis thought of stuffing his nostrils with cotton balls and taping his mouth shut, but that would only kill him faster. And she absolutely didn't want him to look like some kidnapped victim. 

Quistis silently hoped that Seifer wouldn't release another ground shaking snore just in case Irvine and Selphie are within audible range. Squall and the others probably won't return while she's in the middle of dragging Seifer out of earshot. And if they do, they wouldn't likely hear his snore if they were inside a car with the engine on.

A lit bulb almost appeared over her head.

That's it!

The engine room!

The idea bubbled up in her mind and solidified faster than it could pop. Quistis raced to Seifer's side and pulled him the same way she had earlier and placed him on the lift. In all her life as a SeeD, babysitting a giant wasn't really one of the task she was prepared to endure. But Quistis was trained for patience, and she had to hold on to what good sense and reason she still have left in this situation. And her good sense is telling her that she can still buy some time to get Seifer out of there before he's discovered. 

When they reached the lower level, Quistis pulled Seifer, as her strength would allow her, across the hangar and towards the nearing engine room. It was an amazing feat to have reach the room while walking backwards with Seifer, his duffel bag and gun-blade, hanging over her capable arms. Maybe it was sheer panic that prompted her muscles to produce ample force to accomplish such a rigorous labor. 

The engine room was quiet, of course, given that none of the motors are in full operation, but it would hardly be suspicious if anyone happens to hear a slight grating sound coming from there. 

Quistis carefully placed him clandestinely away from an on-entrance-view. In a final attempt to make him more unnoticeable, she folded his arms across his chest and her head tilted slightly in inspection.

Now that certainly made him look dead, she thought. Quistis didn't know why she had the incredible urge to make his position a bit more comfortable for him, but she reached down anyway and crossed his legs at the ankles. God! Even his feet alone are heavy. 

She decided that it was finally time for her to actually "look" for her shoes, since whatever position she puts Seifer in would doubtless satisfy her anyway. Quistis took a final glance at him before she closed the engine room door and wait for the one last chance of getting him out of her agenda. There was not anything she could have wanted more at the moment, but return to her usual schedule. 

On her way back to the hangar, she went over her plan as to how exactly she was going to move Seifer out and put him into the cab once it arrives. Quistis would play as if her shoes, the unimaginably expensive ones, were left in their hotel room, making that as an excuse to ride back to Deling, now that everyone knows how dearly it costs. Thankfully, she was still in her bridesmaid's dress, giving her a chance to change clothing while her friends, no doubt would move into the cockpit, where the chairs and a radio are, to amuse themselves, while they wait for her return. By the time she finished changing, the coast will be clear to finally draw Seifer out and, of course, the cab will be waiting as her plan unfolds. Perfect!

The only difficult part of everything is lying through her teeth. Especially from Selphie. Oh sure, the rest can speculate dishonesty if they spot a liar, but it was Selphie that she was afraid of that won't fall for a remarkably fabricated story. That woman can practically dress down a fraud with just a look and leave her feeling like a trapped bird. But nonetheless, Quistis believed that her pretense had the security of a sound excuse and even if Selphie suspects a thing, she wouldn't likely be obtrusive.

Irvine and Selphie quickly brought whatever it was they were doing to an end once they saw Quistis approaching. She found them sitting on their luggage they just carried halfway inside. Fortunately, she recognized her suitcase that Irvine is so conveniently putting pressure with his butt.

"Selphie, I need to go back to the hotel," she managed to say in a huff.

"What?"

"Why?" 

Both inquiries came from two different mouths in unison, she just didn't know which came from who.

"You're not going to like it, but it would really make me feel a lot better if I tell you now so –"

Irvine quickly cut her short when he raised a hand with the palm facing her. "You left your shoes at the hotel, yes, yes, I know."

"You do?" Now both Selphie and Quistis exclaimed together.

Quistis was absolutely sure that Irvine had no way of knowing about her plan and she refused to believe that he's some sort of clairvoyant, but somehow his statement caused her to be alarmed. Perhaps Irvine must mean an altogether different version of the misplaced pair of shoes.

"Ha!" Selphie surged onto her feet with hands on hips and glared at Irvine. "So you knew she'd left her shoes at the hotel, that's why you were so smug about poking fun at us earlier."

"Nope. Actually, I didn't know it's still at the hotel until Quistis mentioned it," Irvine stated with a casual shrug.

Now that finally made Quistis silently panic. Could it be possible that Irvine had acquired the talent of determining deception from Selphie? Or was it the other way around? No matter what, she'll not let herself strike to his bait. It was staggering to think that she still managed to appear composed as she folded her arms and tilted her head to the side and asked, "How do you know that my shoes are really there then?"

"I don't. You're still barefoot. You did say you were looking for your shoes earlier." Drat! He was right.

She was so busy conjuring up her plan that she mindlessly overlooked what excuse she had used a while ago. It only made her look like an idiot. "Well, aren't you smart," she muttered.

"Of course I am. I happen to pride myself on it," Irvine countered, as it seems that he had heard her.

"You're up to something, I'm sure of it," Selphie declared and watched Quistis intently. 

"What do you mean?" Quistis braced herself for Selphie's onslaught. There was no doubt in her mind that Selphie's strategy to bait her won't be easy to avert, but she was confident enough since their exchange earlier over the radio had taught her a valuable lesson. There was no way she'll let Selphie make her dance to her tune.

"You're not just going back to make a cash withdrawal or buy me something to pay me back, are you?" Selphie's eyes narrowed into little green slits, as she looked at her in sideways glance. 

"Whaaaat?" That was when she realized that no matter how Selphie needled her way to prove a guilty liar, she'd most likely come up with a suspicion, and her success lies under the likelihood that the person in question would admit to something entirely different.

Selphie threw her hand into the air in frustration and cried, "Ooh! Forget the damn shoes! We'll buy you another pair when we get home."

"Note, the keyword was _'we'_. That means she won't pay for it alone," Irvine said with a wolfish grin.

Quistis chose to ignore his remark and said, "Selphie, I can't just forget about something like that. You obviously don't know how I hate myself right now for being so careless." _You lying putz, _she kicked herself mentally. Well, at least she wasn't really lying about the 'careless' part. "I treasure the gifts my friends give me. It would really make me feel a lot better to get the shoes back."

Selphie still didn't look convinced, although they both knew that the topic was embarrassing for them, minus Irvine from the conversation, she could almost swear that Selphie was unable to doubt her. But between those five and a half seconds, the two women reached a mutual understanding that only the closest of friends could muster in silence. Quistis reached for Selphie's hand while Irvine, confused and out of place, looked back and forth from the two women with an amused expression on his face.

Finally, Selphie appeared to have given in when Quistis squeezed her hand and gave her a warm smile. "Fine, have it your way. But I still can't believe you came here last night with no shoes on." It was a clever maneuver on Selphie's part from changing the topic into going sappy.

Then Irvine, who hated being left from the discussion, jokingly asked, "You were that drunk, huh?" 

"Probably," Quistis replied with a smile. "Thank goodness, I was at least sober enough to get a cab to take me here." Then she released a hearty laugh, and realized how it felt good. Somehow, she felt that her day is just going to turn out right and she looked forward to it, now that she's positive that Seifer will be safely tucked away, back to Deling where she'll make sure that he's taken care of by someone else. God only knows how much she's already got on her hands.

"Well, well, well…look who's back." Irvine grinned, as he looked in the direction of Deling's city walls. "Can't believe he came too."

The two women were forced to follow his gaze.

Quistis blanched and choked on air.

Oh, no! No, no, no! What the devil is going on?

Over the horizon was the same red sports car approaching them. And although it returned with the same people that it carried earlier, it appears that Laguna was the one in control of the wheels. Quistis had the feeling that the car doesn't have a chance of ever getting returned.

And so was Seifer.

And she had the sinking feeling that her fate had just been sealed.

****

A/N: Chapter 7 will follow very shortly. Thank you for your usual kind patience. 


	7. Chapter VII

****

Chapter 7

Just as she was afraid of. The Ragnarok airlifted, headed for Balamb, along with Laguna, the sports car and, not to mention, Seifer. Little did her friends know that they were carrying excess baggage. 

Her headache, Quistis learned, never really went away. It just dulled. Her feet seemed to have inched of it's own accord towards the engine room, because she could have sworn that she was just standing beside Irvine when he made his announcement. Now she appeared to be standing at least six feet away. She silently prayed that there was a hole leading straight to hell right behind her that she could dive into, because whatever chance of heaven she's got, she'll definitely never find it since her plan at a normal day was already spoiled in the first place.

Thankfully, none of them noticed her discomfort. She was good at that, in remaining impassive under the worst scenarios. She'll be damned if she let herself go crazy now. 

"Quistis! We missed you last night. Were did you go off to?" Laguna appeared ahead of her as his eyes crinkled at his smile and enclosed her in a warm hug. "How are ya? You know you've left a lot of men asking for you. Most of them aren't such a bad sort, and if you want to learn their names, you know who to look for," he winked. Man, did he get on with age.

"Um…thanks, Mr. Loire." Quistis' looked around at their faces. Good. They can't tell if she was uncomfortable over Laguna's statement or something else that needed suspicion. 

"You can drop the 'mister' and just call me, Uncle Laguna." 

Her eyes darted to Squall. Was he laughing? She can't really tell, but she turned to Laguna and said, "Thank you. Although I'm really flattered that you'd consider me somewhat of a relation, I don't think we've even begun to actually be on familiar terms with each other." _Why don't you start with your son first,_ her mind barked. Now she was just being mentally rude.

"Oh I don't mind. Heck! I'd like it if all of you call me 'Uncle'. Actually, if I had it my way, I'd have all of Esthar call me 'Uncle'. I just got so used to Ellone calling me that." 

Zell leaned towards Irvine and murmured, "I can't imagine Kiros or Cid calling him 'Uncle'."

"I could almost hear them. 'Uncle Laguna, your new intern has arrived'," Irvine sniggered. 

Zell made an imitation of Kiros as he whispered, "Uncle Laguna requests your presence under his desk." Now Irvine just bowled over.

"Zell, I always thought you had it in you," Irvine began trying to control his laughter.

"What are you guys laughing about?" Laguna queried curiously.

"Noth-thi-hi-hi-hing. _Uncle_ Laguna," Zell managed to say in between breaths.

"Don't mind them, they're being idiots." Quistis heard their whole exchange, and even as she reproved them, she was laughing inwardly. As much as she liked Laguna, he could be so clueless sometimes.

"Anyway Laguna, what did you threaten Squall with this time?" This came from Irvine who had calmed down briefly.

"Oh, for the car you mean?"

Irvine nodded.

"I told him that if he didn't accept my gifts then I'll just resign and appoint him as the new President of Esthar." Laguna waved off.

"Reeeaally?" Irvine smiled up at him confidently. "You know, I'd take you up on it."

"Sorry, but I have to leave the position open for Squall."

Quistis noticed Squall getting agitated from the topic and shifted from foot to foot. It wasn't puzzling why he would rather take the car instead of the presidency, given that aside from a shoulder of responsibilities, it wasn't really Squall's style to make dozens of speeches a day. Even the Ulti episode hadn't really developed his liking for leadership. As much as Laguna liked rambling in public, his son couldn't even begin to share his opinion in the Balamb Bulletin Board. It makes one wonder if they're actually related. Not that their relationship is openly known. Without question, he would've returned the car and declined the position at the same time anyway. It was only that Squall had a strict sense of honor that he would not publicly shame Laguna if indeed he resigned and gave him the presidency. Perhaps he was just better off being a knight than being a president.

"We're landing in thirty seconds, everyone!" Selphie bellowed from the pilot seat.

That brought Quistis back to her crisis.

"I have to change," she blurted. She made her way to her bags and grasped whatever clothing she could get a hold of.

"Right. We forgot you're still in your dress. You don't want your peers thinking you were _that_ late for the wedding." Irvine snipped.

As she stood over the lift, she heard his faded laughter. Someday, she thought, Irvine will find someone who can leave him speechless.

His head, Seifer decided, hadn't received so much beating in one lifetime. Let alone in one day. But God, did he feel like hell. What on earth did he get himself into? Better yet, why is it so damn dark and loud?

Seifer batted his eyelids. Slowly.

If it was possible for eyeballs to suffer pain, then he took great care in moving them around his eye sockets. Aside from his eyes, his head insisted on being excruciatingly painful as well. Perhaps if he went back to sleep, since he was comfortably lying anyway, his body will be recharged back its energy.

His eyes suddenly flared open.

What was he doing lying down?

Seifer bolted upright quicker than he could blink again. 

"Aaargh! Shit," Maybe he should have stayed down. That single movement alone seem to have prompted every muscle and nerve in his body to produce an aching throb. But pain or no pain, he wanted to know where on earth was he.

His hands reached around and struggled to feel any telltale signs of the place. The moment his fingers touched the familiar texture of his gun-blade case, Seifer felt for the latch and drew Hyperion out of its confines. There haven't been many occasions when he considered using it, but now was definitely an exception. Hell, he doesn't even know where he is, and heavens forbid if there wasn't anything else that he should be alarmed about.

In a while, his eyes adjusted to the darkness and began to distinguish shapes and forms. His gaze sweeped the area and tried to locate a light switch. None. But at least he finally determined his location. From the noise the place was making, Seifer was convinced that he was surrounded by machinery. 

An engine room.

Of what?

Seifer, in all his discomfort, walked unsteadily towards a small streak of light under a door. If he could run towards it, he would. Perhaps he was being too hopeful that somehow, he was allowed an exit from this god-forsaken darkness, but nevertheless it didn't cross his mind that on his way, he would trip over and fall flat on his face.

Seifer decided that kissing the ground one too many times has to end. It seems he'd been doing that since Deling. Maybe he's still in Deling. Whatever the case, he wondered if he'd been cursed with a clumsy hex by that odious bar-innkeeper. 

When he got himself to his feet, he picked up the object that caused his collapse. Seifer held the item in one hand when he finally identified what it was.

A shoe.

It was definitely a woman's shoe. There isn't a sane man who would wear something that felt remarkably painful. Or expensive. 

It must be some very careless, if not rich, woman who would mindlessly misplace diamond-studded shoes. Now that he reflected on it, maybe it was good that whoever she is, lost this particular possession that he can definitely pawn it for something he can use. It wouldn't be stealing. Not really. Seifer would call it as, sparing that woman of sore feet. He'd be doing her a favor, indeed.

He almost pocketed his new treasure when a barefoot woman, obviously the shoe-owner, barged into the room, filling the darkness with blinding fluorescence that he had to shield his eyes, forgot to notice the engines stopped running and missed her frantic expression on her face.

Seifer heard the door shut behind her and the flicker of a light switch. When he finally opened his eyes, the engine room became more visible and so did the woman clutching a bundle of clothing.

He turned a corner of his lips up and said, "Well, well. If it isn't Cinderella."

Why that irked her so much, she didn't know. Maybe it's because he was holding one of the missing shoes that added to her distress a while ago. Maybe because he was able to reduce her intelligence to that of a bird with that offhand remark and a beguiling grin. Or maybe it's because she found him, smirking, standing upright on his two feet and looking terribly striking, when he should be on his back still sleeping peacefully like a log.

"Oh God!" 

It was amazing how Seifer managed to keep his temper in check as he pointed, "Sorry to disappoint you but I'm just Seifer."

Quistis made a frenzied flailing with her arms and dropped her bundle. "You're awake!" 

"Yes, I'm that too."

"But you're supposed to be down there." Her finger pointed towards the floor.

"Why should you think so?" Seifer held himself because he could feel his control on the brink of cracking. Didn't he just decide that he didn't want to see any of _them?_

Quistis fidgeted. She can't remember the last time she did. "I slammed the door over your head then you were out cold and of course I made sure you're alright, now – " 

"You mean you tried to kill me? And then make sure I live?" Seifer asked incredulously.

"No! I didn't even know you were there. It was an accident! I swear! I couldn't find my shoes so I kicked the door down," she cried.

"Then explain what I'm doing here," he glared. God was he angry, added to hurting, hungry and smelling.

"I-I-I-I – " Her story couldn't have begun more smoothly.

Seifer was running out of patience and thought it was about time he unleashed his fury. "Awww, hell Trepe! You're certainly dressed for the part. Why don't you just get on with it." 

That reined her in. He thinks she's lying? "I beg your pardon!" It was Quistis' turn to fume. "You should be thankful that I didn't leave you to die. But obviously between your head and the steel door, I doubt the door would've stood a chance!"

"Why should I be thanking you for hitting me in the head? Maybe you thought that was so wonderful, you decided to kidnap me too!" Any moment now, his head was going to explode with all this yelling.

"Kidnap you? Why on earth do I want to kidnap you?"

Seifer made a mock gesture of a thinking pose and said, "Oh I'm not sure. Maybe it's because for all I know you could be a psycho woman!"

"Psycho – " If only the clothes she dropped on the floor were a bit harder and heavier, she wouldn't hesitate to hurl them at him. She liked him better when he was unconscious.

"If you're going to talk about psychotics, between the two of us you're most likely to qualify, since you can't recognize good intentions for what they really are!" Quistis grabbed her shoe from his clutches in three strides.

This isn't going anywhere he thought. He needed to get out of there, but it seems this woman, this unbelievably, unbearably, arresting figure of a woman, somehow has the means of getting him out of this predicament. And he couldn't likely leave if he keeps her riled. Seifer had to bridle his irritability for his own benefit, and probably hers as well. She looks about ready to detonate.

"Alright, I'll level with you. I will put all of this behind me and you will show me the exit so we can go on our own way. Now that seems fair, don't you think?"

"No."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing makes anything fair." She mumbled. Oh, how that statement had proven itself since yesterday. 

Seifer made a small space between his thumb and forefinger and warned, "I'm this close from strangling you."

"The Ragnarok already took off," She bit her lip. Quistis didn't want to make it worse by telling him, if he hadn't noticed, that they've already landed. In Balamb.

That was his cue to go a little insane. "Show me the exit anyway so I can at least plunge to my death."

And that was her cue to be honest. "It won't be much of a death if you're going to be jumping at three feet high."

"What!?!?"

"We've already landed," she whispered sheepishly.

Seifer was suddenly shaking with fury. He turned his back to her and began a breathing routine he learned when completely, and highly enraged. Another trick he learned to subside his rage was speaking soothingly to himself.

"Relax Seifer," he told himself. "That's it. Calm down. She probably tried her best. She's blonde after all."

"Aren't you blonde too?" Her brows slammed indignantly together.

He ignored her retort, unwilling to let her irritate him further. "She listens well too," he heard himself say.

"QUISTIS!!!" There was a bang at the door. "Are you in there?"

Probably his body was still too weak or maybe his reflexes were too slow, but the moment he realized it, a feminine hand found its way over his mouth, concealing any sound he might produce, and he nearly went deaf when Quistis yelled over his ears.

"Yes! But don't come in! I'm…uhhh…still undressed!!!!" 

Seifer effortlessly yanked her hand from his face, but made no attempt of making a sound and instead, made a thrashing gesture with his hand towards the closed door as he mouthed the words '_who's that'_

Apparently, he didn't recognize the voice when it came again from the other side of the door. "Oh! Okay! Well, we're going now. We're having dinner at my house! Ma's cooking!" Zell hollered.

"I'm kind of busy, Zell! I'll visit you on the weekend!" her voice rang.

"Okay! I'll see you around!" Zell rapped the door twice indicating his departure, while Quistis pressed her ears at the door to hear fading footfalls making certain he was completely gone.

"That's Chicken-wuss?" Seifer hissed behind her.

She motioned rather rudely for him to move back. "Don't call him that! He's one of the greatest people I've come to know and love and I'll thank you not to disrespect him."

"It's not disrespect if he isn't here. And if you really respect him as you said, then why aren't you naked like you told him, instead of going through all this trouble to conceal my presence?" 

Quistis fell silent and drew back a little. Seifer had the sinking suspicion that he'd just said something very, very wrong. But he wasn't certain about it until he saw her eyes began to have a far away look. How strange, that in the first five seconds of their meeting, she had managed to inflame his temper, yet she brought him down with a look that left him feeling like the biggest idiot. Hell! Didn't he just tell himself that he didn't want to see any of them? But why does the idea of seeing Quistis Trepe didn't bother him as much as the thought of seeing the rest of them would? Perhaps it's alright to confront just _one _living reminder of his shady past. And if he'd given it a deeper thought, Quistis would have been doing him a favor if she kept his presence a secret. He won't likely see any of them after her, because this is certainly the last time he'll be in the same room, if not an island, with Quistis Trepe. 

****

AN: Chapter 8, coming on Tuesday, July 23, 2002. Stay tuned! Thank you for all the kind reviews.


	8. Chapter VIII

****

Chapter 8

Precisely three minutes of absolute silence had passed since Seifer had made that grippingly good line of reasoning. And that was the second time since her entrance, that he managed to relegate her status to that of a duck. Funny how he seems rather capable of doing that so easily. If it truly was her purpose to rid of him earlier and if she truly valued her friends' confidence as she'd declared, then why didn't it occur to her to inform them of Seifer? His statement of logic still floated through her mind that she almost, nearly cried. 

Quistis gave herself a mental kick. Nothing. Nobody, especially this sorry excuse of a man, Seifer Almasy, will goad her to crumble and break down now. She is Quistis Trepe, _Instructor No.14_, one of the successful SeeDs who led the victorious battle of the last Sorceress War and she'd be foolish if she's going to let him and his words get under her skin.

But nonetheless, her lips trembled. Quistis wanted to smack herself.

And Seifer just stood there, looking at her with the most stoic expression. Did he even notice that she was between the margin of a whimper and a sob? She wanted to blame him. Something, anybody. She wanted to lash out at him for choosing to be under the door the exact time she had booted it. She wanted to yell at Selphie for not sending the hired cab she promised. She wanted to kick Irvine for all his sharp and mocking remarks and at Laguna for choosing a sports car for a gift, of all things. But even as her brain refused to believe that they didn't deserve such treatment, her desire to have something or someone vent her frustration upon won over common sense. 

But that little modicum of sense was squealing at the back of her mind, drowned out by her confusion. And it silently cried that all of this was her fault. Aside from having to blame someone or something else, her plans were founded upon weak suppositions and assumptions. She had kept her hopes up, too high up if it was possible. Quistis assumed that Selphie was sending a taxi. She believed that Squall was coming back with one. But both 'Plan A' and 'B' proved to be a failure. And she was supposed to be a first-rate SeeD. What kind of agent was she if she couldn't even make a simple strategy with a positive groundwork? Cid would definitely question why he even considered re-hiring her. 

Seifer looked as if he was waiting for her to say something.

Quistis searched her brain for something to say. But her mind was still in brambles that it left her tongue-tied.

And so Quistis did the only thing she was capable of.

She closed her eyes and clutched her dress close to her chest.

And screamed. 

In the highest-pitch she could manage.

Seifer's nerves jumped at lightning rate and found his back slamming against something cold. He couldn't remember ever having a heart attack, but he certainly felt like he just had one. The heart he thought he'd dropped pounded in his chest along with his ears. Dear God, can the woman scream.

"Get a hold of yourself!" he barked. Seifer found his hands gripping around her upper arms and shook. Maybe over that screaming, he didn't even notice his feet move towards her. 

Her uproar lasted for a good ten seconds.

Quistis wasn't even aware of his hands on her when she smiled weakly saying, "I feel a lot better now."

That earned her a raised brow. 

"I'm not even going to ask what the hell was that about. But now I'm positively sure that you are crazy." Even as he said that, he wondered why he couldn't bring himself to believe it.

"Oh, Seifer – may I call you Seifer or Mr. Almasy?" she asked expansively in a rather accommodating voice. Wait a minute! Quistis suddenly became accommodating?

He held her at arm's length and eyed her inquisitively. Maybe he's the one going crazy here.

"Whatever suits you," he returned as he dropped his arms to the side. "Now, you lost me at 'Oh Seifer', go on."

She released a sigh before continuing. "What I was trying to say, is that I never meant for everything to end up in such a mess. I'm in as much of a spot as you are. Maybe much more. But nonetheless…" Quistis chewed on her lip.

"Nonetheless?" he prodded.

"Nonetheless…I'm stumped. I don't know what to do, now with you being awake and all."

Seifer rolled his eyes heavenwards. Now why did that hold a sting of insult? And the most confusing part of it was why would he even consider feeling insulted by her. He tilted his head to the side indicating that she explain herself.

"No, you've got it all wrong. I am relieved you're up and about." Quistis was wringing her hands unconsciously and muttered, "Not that you were more manageable asleep."

Seifer's brows pulled up.

"I guess I wasn't prepared to confront you." There, she'd said it.

Why he didn't like her answer was beyond mind-boggling. Wasn't that the same excuse he'd used that he began to avoid Balamb and Esthar altogether? Clearly nobody would want a grim reminder of their shadowy past, let alone a walking, talking and a damnably attractive one. Oh, he wasn't going to hedge around it any longer. Even if Quistis is somewhat of an aide memoir to his disreputable acts, he'd come to accept, in the first five minutes of their re-acquaintance, that she's a reminder he didn't mind looking at.

"Well, if it should put your mind at ease, you'd be happy to know that I can definitely take care of myself from here." Seifer swiveled around to place his weapon back to its encasement and swung his duffel bag over his shoulders. 

Quistis didn't know whether to stop him or just stand there like a fool.

He turned to face her and offered her a quick nod, without a word of thanks, as he said, "Goodbye, _Dear Instructor_."

She couldn't tell if he meant that as an endearment or if he was simply mocking her, but even so, she heard herself call out, "Wait!"

He began to wonder if her outcry was a blessing in disguise or merely coincidence when he spun around, just before he reached for the door that a loud hammering fell from the other side.

Both Seifer and Quistis jumped.

"QUISTIS!!! Are you alright? Open the door! It's Irvine!" The pounding continued.

Quite by instinct, she tried to muzzle Seifer by pressing a hand over his mouth when she yelled, "I'm okay! I'm not fully dressed!"

"Still?!" The voice boomed. "I heard screaming! Now let me in!" Irvine beat the door again.

Inside the engine room, Seifer twisted her hands from his jaws and then communicated with her through his facial expressions. The one he wore told her that his patience is thinning to its limit. "Why do you keep doing that?" he ground out.

"Shush!" She turned back to the door to try and drive Irvine away. "Irvine! I told you I'm alright!" she hollered.

"Didn't sound like it! Did you step on a rat or something?!"

"Yah! Something like that!" Quistis said figuratively.

Seifer looked as if he was going to explode. Steam nearly came out of his ears and nostrils.

"I didn't know you for someone who'd scream at a rat! Now open the door! I don't care if you're naked as a post but I swear, I'm going to ram my way in!"

"Oh no you're not! I said I'm fine! Now please go away!"

Irvine had proven himself more than twice as persistent when she heard a body slamming itself against the door. 

Quistis looked at Seifer.

The fool was grinning from ear to ear! Isn't he supposed to be infuriatingly incensed? What does he find so funny now?

She questioned him with a scowl.

"You better get yourself at least half-naked now, before he actually comes through," Seifer said with a sniff. 

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you?" Quistis narrowed her eyes as if she was just presented with a challenge. "I'll show you half-naked, you obnoxious boar."

He didn't know if he was supposed to look away like any gentleman should or gawk like a half-starved schoolboy, but it seems that whatever he told his eyeballs, they only seem to be stubbornly glued to a pair of creamy shoulders Quistis had just revealed after pushing her dress down. And he found it dishearteningly disappointing that it didn't go any farther than the top of her breasts. 

"Irvine! Stop! I'm going to open the door!" Quistis motioned for Seifer to move behind her and reached for the door latch.

"What are you doing?" he asked hoarsely.

Quistis didn't answer him but instead, she unlocked the barricade and made a little crack as she piped her head out to greet Irvine. The only part of her that Irvine could see was from the shoulders up, but he didn't look as if he truly believed her nude behind the door, from the way he crossed his arms and his foot tapping in impatience. 

"There, I opened the door. Now can you please leave?" she said emphatically.

"I'm not that easy get rid of. And I'm sure as hell you're not naked." Irvine said smoothly. 

Behind her, Seifer was secretly eyeing Irvine through the hinges, as if he was assessing his character. He could see that the man was almost his height only that he was of different coloration. Seifer barely remembered him during his childhood, there were a lot of children at the orphanage after all, and there were brief chance meetings he'd had with him, not many of them pleasant to recall during the Sorceress War. But despite all that, Seifer had already come to the conclusion that this Irvine fellow might be someone he could come to respect. 

"Well I might not be fully naked, but I'm still in the process of clothing myself properly. I can't let you in," Quistis reasoned.

"I know." Irvine just smiled. "So I'll just wait right here," he continued as he made himself comfortable by propping his back against a wall.

Seifer almost applauded the man on the other side, but he just consigned himself into smiling his amusement. He wondered how Quistis is going to carry on from there. Although he had no doubt she's intelligently capable, but it was her methods that he found peculiarly surprising. 

"Irvine," she implored. "You don't have to wait. _Really." _

"Oh, I don't mind. I'll just sit here by my lonesome while you do your business." He presented her with a sharp look before adding, "Whatever that is."

Quistis didn't say anything. Seifer expected her to at least produce a gargling snarl that would sure to drive Irvine away, but she just remained there, hunched with head between the door. He wasn't entirely certain what she thought to gain from keeping Irvine of knowing about him being there, but he had an uneasy feeling that somehow he didn't particularly mind having her secretly hide him from everyone else, that she would be the only person who has any access to him didn't bother him at all. 

The thought was unnerving.

"Fine, I'll be out in a second," Quistis closed the door smoothly and released a dejected sigh that told him she was done in. 

It was surprising how Seifer could already interpret her sighs given that they'd only been re-acquainted rather abnormally.

"Seifer, he's not going anywhere." Quistis said faintly.

"That's not my problem," he returned steadily.

"You're right. I have to come clean."

That earned her a reprieving look. "You should've thought of that sooner."

Her yes narrowed. "If you wanted to be discovered in the first place, you should've just screamed."

"You beat me to it." He shrugged. "But then I also wanted you to come up with the solution for yourself, since you are so vent on trying to make every situation so damn flawless." 

She knew it wasn't the time to exchange blows with him, but his comment required her to say her piece and clear something out of his murky insidious mind. "Unlike some of us, I have plans and more important things to do. I have a job after all that needs full consideration above all things. So forgive me if I was trying to live my life a little normally."

"I don't know what you call normal, but it whatever it is, certainly isn't healthy," he said condescendingly.

"Obviously, our definition of 'normal' doesn't agree with each other, even if it makes me wonder if _you_ are normal."

"The important word in that sentence being _if, _of course."

"Hmph,"

He didn't know whether to be offended or relieved that she'd just quantified his intelligence with a single, 'hmph'.

Quistis turned for the door before she actually grinds her teeth to powder. She'd rather face Irvine's cutting jeers at any day than stand by idly in the company of this insufferable lout for another five minutes. She couldn't even begin to guess how she managed for the last ten minutes.

Seifer walked ahead of her and reached the door before she could. He couldn't have made it more obvious how much he wanted to get out of there as well, with his bag over his shoulder and the black encasement of his weapon under his arm, he took the handle and twisted the door open himself and greeted Irvine dispassionately.

"Well, I'll be damned," Irvine mumbled

"Don't wait on my account," Seifer gave him a lazy salute.

Irvine's brows shot up when he was followed by Quistis, who was holding a pair of shoes as her dress drooped unceremoniously around her shoulders while looking viciously irate. Irvine could only think of one possible scenario. Something that involved of actually getting undressed, and it didn't take long for him to suspect that she might have been truly half-naked behind the door minutes ago.

Quistis didn't miss the suspicious gleam in his eyes and explicated, "It's not what you think!"

"Well, some rat that was," he muttered. He turned to Seifer and said, "Hey, Seifer. I don't think we've been _properly_ introduced. Irvine Kinneas. But I take it you know that already." Irvine extended a hand towards Seifer and beamed. His famous, big, friendly, slightly playful smile that always, almost seems to work. 

And today was no exception.

Seifer took his offered hand and shook it. "Seifer Almasy. And I take it you already know that too."

There was a warm and relaxing air about Irvine in which Seifer had found it easy to convey with. It was such a humbling feeling that he found it easy to smile back. Funny how Irvine just addressed him as if he were nothing more than a business contact, even as he knew that his questionable character earned him a disparaging remark from this fellow.

But Irvine was a considerably principled man that he was willing to acknowledge Seifer, not for his faults and misgivings, but as a human being, and that had earned him his respect. 

Seifer wasn't mistaken when he deduced that he could actually like this guy. Maybe he's someone he could be friends with.

"Had a fun time in the engine room?" Irvine asked.

Or the worst enemy.

"It's not what you think!" Quisits jumped at the last statement delivered. "I can't believe you even thought of that."

"Makes you wonder what else he could think of," Seifer interjected.

Irvine pretended to study his nails and said, "Nothing worth mentioning." 

Quistis rolled her eyes skywards and thought how she might want to strangle the two of them. It was clearly a regrettable mistake to have brought Seifer out. Now, she'll receive twice the insolence now that Seifer and Irvine have joined forces. 

"Maybe you two would want to explain. Because I'm really hungry now and I want get to Mrs. Dincht's house before Zell does."

"It's his house. He needs to get there first," she bit out.

"Whatever, now tell me what happened."

Quistis blew out a long shaky breath before beginning. "Alright, It's like this…"

All in all, Irvine soaked up her story like a sponge. It had really taken the edge off, finally telling him everything. By the time Quistis had finished explaining, with frequent interruptions on Seifer's part, Irvine grew silent, which was unusual.

"Irvine?" Maybe he was thinking she had been mad in the head. She fleetingly looked at Seifer, who seemed rather comfortable seeing her aggravated.

Finally, Irvine broke away from his silence. "Quistis, you know he's in Garden premises."

She nodded solemnly.

"And that means he's trespassing on the account that he's not a SeeD nor a cadet."

Seifer flinched at that comment but none of them seemed to notice.

"He can't waltz out of here without being ID'd." he went on. "They've just heightened the security level now that Laguna's visiting for I don't know how long." He turned to Seifer. "Look, man, even if we back you up on this, and we will, you'll still be quarantined. And I'm sure you didn't plan on staying here for that long. But I've got an idea."

Seifer seem to have measured his logic in an instant, but he can't ignore the dread that came along with it.

"Irvine, I hope it's not one of your diabolical schemes," Quistis said.

"No. It's quite fascinating actually."

This got both Quistis and Seifer's curiosity.

"Since he isn't my problem, I don't see any reason why he shouldn't stay in your dorm-room. Besides, he isn't my excess baggage," Irvine announced.

The baggage in question threw him a scathing look while Quistis remained, as she was, except that her mouth was gaping open like a fish.

Both said nothing.

"If you think I'm trying to play the both of you then you're mad. The only reason I suggested it is that there simply is nowhere else he can stay," he said plainly.

"I'm going back to the engine room," Seifer was turning back but Irvine stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that. The Ragnarok has it's own maintenance crew who comes every now and then," Irvine cleared out.

Seifer turned to Quistis who nodded in truth.

"I bet they won't be so difficult to avoid," Seifer mumbled.

Quistis never really believed that someone would rather spend the night in the cold engine room with an old janitor than in her company, until then. It confused her that she cared to be offended by his choice of accommodation when all she really wanted in the beginning was not to familiarize herself with him. She didn't know why she bothered, didn't care to think of it through, but she swallowed what probably was the biggest lump in her throat and found her most calm and collected voice that said, "Seifer, as a symbol of my apology for everything unpleasant that I placed on you, it would be a great relief if you'd stay at my dorm."

Her countenance told them that she'd be very, extremely insulted if her rather generous offer was declined, even if she offered in the name of pride, and wouldn't accept 'no' for an answer.

Seifer felt Irvine's elbow on his ribs. 

Quistis looked like a thundercloud on legs, on long shapely legs. He didn't know how long they were staring at each other, but he broke the silence when he croaked out, "Alright."

The one word that would keep him within closer proximity with Quistis, for longer than he hoped possible.

And nothing could have scared him more.

****

A/N: I made it! Tuesday, July 23, 2002, 11:23 pm Eastern Daylight Time! I just got home from work and I hurried as fast as I could to upload this story. I know I promised Tuesday, but now here it is. I hope you enjoyed it. Chapter 9 will be posted on Saturday, July 27, 2002. Thank you for all your kind reviews!


	9. Chapter IX

****

Chapter 9

"_The secret of creativity is knowing how to hide your sources." – Albert Einstein_

Later that evening, Quistis found herself rooming with a considerably good amount of snoring from just a foot away from her bed. She pulled the bed covers over her head, as if it would shield off the raspy noise that Seifer was so skillful at making. From the amount of time he had been unconscious, she didn't think he'd be capable of falling asleep again. But after a considerably long shower and a heavy meal, he did quite soundly. Or sound-ful. If there was such a word.

Judging from the little objects that rattled on her coffee table, she won't likely make it through the night, or probably not even for the next hour. Quistis hadn't realized that a gun-blade would someday come in handy, because she didn't know whether to shoot the man on the couch, or shoot herself instead. 

There was a sound that came between a choke and a snort that was louder than the rest he'd produced, she thought her door might burst.

Oh, she'll definitely shoot Seifer. Everyone on her floor might consider her for sainthood.

But there was still no way she'd be able to sleep through this infernal noise that had suddenly intruded her home. Even if she forced a gallon of water down her throat or counted the sheep that floated through her head nothing can make her sleep, except maybe the blessed silence that had once resided in her cozy little space. 

It only took her mere seconds to decide that she will no longer share her living space with Seifer for one more minute. So, she swung her legs out of bed, snatched a pillow and slipped into her robe and slippers and forcefully strode out of the room, clad only in her pajamas. Even as she locked the door behind her, she could still hear the guttural sound emanating from inside. Whether it was from his nostrils or his mouth, she didn't know and wouldn't want to stay to find out. 

Time to look on the bright side, she thought, dismissing the fact that it was pitch dark along the corridors. She might be trapped in the wackiest situations, but it was still heads and tails above being stuck with someone who snored terribly. Good God, if she hadn't gone out, she'd probably be deaf come morning.

Alright, maybe she was exaggerating the situation a bit too much, but this is the closest to a disaster her life could possibly get; Seifer sprawled out on her sofa.

She was grateful that at least her position at Garden was still secured and perhaps that was the only stimulus that had kept her sane through the whole ordeal.

Quistis followed the path that led towards the staff recreation room. She hoped nobody occupied it at the moment, considering it's unusually late for anyone to be up at this hour anyway. It's already two in the morning and nothing is specially interesting broadcasted on TV. Maybe she might fall asleep watching a late night informercial or some very droll cartoon program.

Still gripping the pillow under her arm, she twisted the knob that opened to an empty recreation room. It was a standard square room, which provided a couch and a chaise longue that were separated by an ottoman that served as a coffee table. From the three furniture, Quistis preferred that she would doubtless find it easier to sleep on the sofa. 

It was too ludicrous not to find the irony in her sleeping arrangement. Just moments ago, she insisted that Seifer must take to the couch or sleep on the floor; not that he minded of course. Now here she was, driven out of her room and suffering the same conditions. She should've known that any imposition she'd place on him would backfire at her. She wouldn't be surprised if he was snoring deliberately, and had just ceased after she'd left. If she had offered him her bed, maybe he wouldn't have snored so loudly.

Offered him her bed! Ha!

The moment the thought had crossed her mind, the more annoyed she grew to herself. Oh, Quistis has a lot of reasons why she hated herself for thinking such a thing. Maybe because she knew she'd give up her bed for Seifer, knowing now that she couldn't stay in the same room with him anyway. And that led to why she didn't truly want being closed up in the same space with him. Because she knew, as much as she hated to admit it, that a man like him would never be interested in a woman like her.

And that was the problem. Seifer suddenly became someone she noticed, not just saw. He tried her patience within a five-minute time frame, which was a mystery, when five years ago, she didn't even care about his wayward behavior. Oh, he was deliberately rude back then, as if he was really trying to drive her mad, but it didn't bother her to the least and she managed to maintain tolerant and impassive. But that was gone, and his offensiveness was now replaced by a contemptuously annoying logic and rational insight. 

And she was right, she thought egotistically. Seifer isn't the boy he used to be. The boy who was merely trying to goad her into frustration by flinging vulgarity and disrespect in her direction is long gone. But this afternoon, he managed to do just that, frustrate her that she lost control of her emotions, simply by being right.

Imagine that! Seifer suddenly becomes the voice of reason. That would mean the world has gone completely absurd. And it annoyed her that somehow their roles have been reciprocated. It didn't take him more than just a sensible comeback to push her into madness. 

She couldn't remember the last time she screamed like a banshee. Come to think of it, she never really had. Seifer probably thinks her a hundred kinds of psychotics wrapped up in one. And she couldn't blame him, notably when she made a virtue of not reflecting her thoughts through her actions. Her behavior had surprised even herself. But it certainly felt good, screaming, that is. Maybe she can do it more often now that Seifer is available for cyclic screaming support. 

"Oh sorry, I didn't realize someone was here." 

Quistis looked up from the television and saw Laguna, dressed in his presidential pajamas, framed in the doorway. "Mr. Loire, it's quite alright. You weren't intruding. Please, feel free to watch anything," she said, handing him the remote control as she sat up to make room on the couch.

"Quistis?" He looked at her intently through the dim source of light from the TV. "Oh, didn't know it was you. Why are you still up?"

She wasn't about to divulge _all_ the information so she simply said, "I could ask the same about you."

Laguna made his way to the chaise longue opposite her. "I got lost. And you?"

"I couldn't sleep." It was true, and she still can't. "Anyway, I can't imagine why you would get lost at this hour. Not unless you're sleep walking." She leaned forward and asked jokingly, "Are you?"

"Let me check." Laguna pinched himself on the arm. "I don't think so."

"I've never seen a sleep-walker in the act before, so I'm not familiar with the behavior." Quistis ribbed.

"Don't worry, I'm not a sleep-walker." Then his forehead wrinkled and added, "I think."

"I'm not worried. If you were sleep-walking, then you'll definitely won't notice that you're lost," she chuckled. _Lost _is his middle name. Although Laguna is a nice man, if he couldn't find his way, he'll somehow find himself muddled in the clouds. "Speaking of which, why are you lost anyway?"

"The kitchen," he groaned. "I can't find the kitchen."

"You're hungry?"

"Yes. Food suddenly sounded heavenly at this hour. Not that Mrs. Dincht's cooking wasn't fulfilling, I'd never had such good food served to me before." Laguna was beginning to drift off into a monologue. "Come to think of it, I'd pay her a visit right now if she's still awake." 

"Trust me, she's not," she cut in. "Why don't we go to the kitchen together and I'll show you where it is, so the next time sudden hunger strikes you, you'll know where to find food."

"Capital idea," he clapped. 

"I think food just might be the ticket to get me to sleep."

The two set out for a trek to the kitchen as they walked side by side along the dimly lit hallways. And both were in their pajamas and slippers.

"This is so odd," she heard herself say.

"What? Sneaking around Garden for some late night bite? I do this all the time in the mansion and nobody seems to mind. And I thought sneaking is usually a mercenary's forté," he quipped.

"It is, it's just that I never thought that I'd be using the skill for food, within Garden no less. How silly." She gave her head a little shake.

"Really? Well, if you think this silly, I don't know what you'd call outrageous."

How Seifer ended up in her bedroom; that is outrageous. And to tell Laguna that, is simply unwise. "I could think of a number of things, but I bet they couldn't possibly compare to what _you_ might call silly," she said.

"Really, Quistis, it sounds as if to fall in love is the only thing that could get you to be silly."

"Now _that_, is what I'd call outrageous," she pointed.

Laguna shook his head. "I've been a thousand kinds of fool and have done so many outrageous things in my life. But," he raised a finger as he said, "the least outrageous of all, was when I actually fell in love."

"Raine must have been a truly exceptional woman," she said sympathetically. 

His eyes looked distant as his mouth took on a dreamy smile and said, "She was that and more." He paused for a second and Quistis noticed that he was no longer with her, but at some long ago scene, meeting Raine for the very first time. Finally, just when she thought he'd completely forgotten the conversation, he looked back at her and said, "So you see, even now when I'm thinking of her, I bet you thought I looked silly. An old man still in love usually is."

"No, I don't think you are, Mr. Loire," she admitted. "You're a great many things, and silly isn't one of them."

He looked at her sideways and said, "You don't have to humor me. Even Squall thinks I'm a goof." Laguna waved his hand dismissively and added, "And how many times do I have to tell you, call me Uncle, I don't see the reason why you shouldn't start since I've almost, already, bared my soul."

Quistis covered her lips as she felt a faint laugh coming on. "I have no doubt that you'll soon have all of Esthar call you 'Uncle'."

"You think so?"

She nodded.

"Quistis, did I ever tell you that you are one very smart girl?"

She didn't know how to answer that, so she just smiled.

"Well, you are. And you will make some man very lucky one day," he raised a hand up before she could speak and said, "that is before you drive him crazy first."

"Now I don't know if that was a compliment, or if I should be insulted," she said in good humor.

"It was definitely a compliment." Then Laguna frowned, the corners of his mouth spilling into long vertical wrinkles on either side of his chin and said, "It would break my old bones and heart if I see a brilliant mind such as yours shackled to some brainless dunderhead who can't put two and two together. No, you definitely deserve a man who's equally clever. Or someone who's capable of outsmarting you."

"Well, whoever he is, still has to be unearthed," Quistis wanted to end the conversation about her so she changed the topic and announced, "Well, here we are. Let me be the first to welcome you to B-Garden's kitchen. On the other side is the cafeteria."

They were surrounded by pots and pans and a long counter that has over ten cooking stoves, while the cabinets seemed to stretch out for miles. Still, Laguna couldn't spot a fridge anywhere.

"Now, we look for food," he said.

"We have to walk all the way there," she pointed to where the cabinets ended. 

"I wonder what's in it that they kept the fridge so far." 

"Something good, I hope."

"Well, if they – " Whatever Laguna had meant to say, was rudely interrupted by an audibly piercing ring tone that came from his pocket

He dug in for his mobile phone.

"Do you carry that all the time?" 

"Yeah, for emergency cases." The device kept ringing. "Excuse me, I have to take this call," he explained.

Quistis dipped her head and complied by giving him distance for privacy and made way towards the fridge, but even so, she had still overheard Laguna's portion of the phone call.

"Hello?"

There was a long gap of silence. Laguna gave her a fleeting glance, as if she was suddenly, either included or the subject of the conversation, then he returned his gaze back to the floor.

"Really? Well, don't worry about a thing. I'll take care of it from here." He flipped the phone back and slid it in his pocket before turning his attention to Quistis. 

She didn't want to be caught listening in, so she hid her head behind the open fridge door, grabbed the brownies and announced, "This looks tempting." But when she emerged and looked up at Laguna over the tray she noticed that he was staring at her quite strangely. "Everything all right?" she queried.

"That looks yummy, but if there's a pitcher of milk to go with that, might as well bring it out." He pulled two stool chairs from under the counter and patted one, indicating for her to sit, as he made himself comfortable on the other. "Because you and I have much to discuss," he stated.

Quistis balanced the tray of brownies on one arm and at the same time, lifted a jug of milk before shutting the fridge door with her foot. 

Whatever he intended to talk with her about, she was positively sure that it isn't going to be a topic she'll definitely like and anticipate. From the gleam in his eyes and the smile that was pulling at his lips, it's a topic that deserves a drink far stronger than milk.

****

A/N: I know, I know, I promised Saturday. I was recently preoccupied with the World Youth Day events. I'm really sorry. I hope you've enjoyed this chapter although I think it was rather short and a bit rushed. Now, Ch.10 hasn't been started yet, but it will be posted next week, Tuesday, August 6. Thank you for your usual kind patience.


	10. Chapter X

****

Chapter 10

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"If you don't have a plan for yourself, then you will be part of someone else's." – American Proverb

The morning arrived soon enough and Seifer didn't feel like getting up. It was the most gratifying rest he had enjoyed in a while, and quite peacefully too, since he'd left Deling and all its unpleasantness. Because he can't say he missed being hungry and smelling like a dump, now that he's stretching lazily like a cat under fresh, soft sheets and plush pillows, he didn't see any reason why he should get up from what he might call bliss.

Except maybe for why there were two heads peering over him.

His eyes shot open and he vaulted upright.

Seifer blinked once. Twice. He had to make sure he's fully awake when he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Quistis who appeared none too relaxed and rather weary, planted her fists on her hips and rolled her eyes. "You've got some nerve to ask."

Seifer's memory rushed through his mind in an instant, suddenly remembering where he was. And then why he was there in the first place. This was Quistis' room. And this…was her bed. He remembered that he was supposed to be on the couch, and specifically _not_ on her bed. Seifer remembered being awakened last night from the sound of a door connecting to its latch and noticed Quistis has left the room. When she didn't come back for what seemed like hours, he moved to the bed and found more comfort in it. Why he moved there was a rather ridiculous notion. Perhaps somewhere in his lustful mind, and not to mention, body, he was hoping she'd come back and crawl under the sheets with him. And it goes without saying that he isn't clothed under the sheets. He pulled the blankets higher.

Judging from the dark circles that formed under her eyes, Seifer could only guess that Quistis spent the night awake. An unusual feeling crept up on him that almost felt like guilt. He moved closer to the edge and gave her a sleepily sheepish smile. "There's room for one more," he said and patted the empty side.

Quistis flushed. What the devil? She's never flushed! 

"Hey, hey, hey, none of that hanky-panky while I'm here," Seifer almost forgot they had company.

"Who are you?" he asked directly.

"That's no way to address the President of Esthar." Quistis scolded.

If Seifer was taken aback by that announcement, he didn't show it. "Well, this isn't Esthar, and I doubt that his authority stretches over Balamb."

Quistis' lips tightened. She didn't know what to say to that. Once again, Seifer had proven himself correct. But still, she wanted to smack him upside the head for being rude. So she gave Laguna an apologetic look and Seifer, one that could kill.

And then, as if the situation couldn't get any stranger, she heard Laguna chuckle and say, "Almasy, even if I was God Himself – pardon the comparison," he muttered to the heavens then returned to Seifer, "I wouldn't doubt for a minute that you'd question My authority."

Seifer absorbed his words for a moment, then broke into a toothsome grin. He can't remember ever meeting him before, but somewhere in his memory, he was a part of his past. 

Of course! He's the Estharian President who had a hand in Balamb Garden's victory five years ago. 

Still, there was something about the President that he found compelling, as if he's just the sort of man who can convince almost anyone to do anything. Maybe he is. He wouldn't be the President of Esthar if he weren't. His grin grew wider and said, "That coming from a man of your position, I'd take it as a compliment."

Laguna inclined his head and said, "It was intended as such."

"Excuse my appearance, I didn't know I'd be expecting _polite_ company." Seifer felt the daggers on his back from Quistis' eyes, but he chose to ignore her. That always seems the best course. But it was still difficult _not _to ignore her.

"It's alright. The past couple of days had been quite unexpected anyway," Laguna returned as he made himself comfortable on the wicker chair at the end corner of the bed.

Quistis made a grave mistake by looking at the man sitting on her bed. It all went against the law of all that's holy and true.

He smiled at her. A genuine, rakish smile.

And the oddest thing happened. The most bizarre, really. Probably more bizarre than what Laguna had told her hours earlier, that no matter how hard she tried to close her eyes, there seems to be no dodging the obvious. Suddenly, she didn't see Seifer. Oh, he's still sitting haughtily in the middle of her bed as if he was some sort of royalty, but somehow it wasn't him anymore. She had been correct when she thought that he was an altogether transformed man. He wasn't someone who boasted about his skills and thwarted all form of authority. No longer someone who was offensively foul at every chance he gets. This is where she thinks she might start screaming. Because she should be glad! She should be elated that he wasn't being such a beast any longer, but this Seifer, bare-chested and smiling as if he owned the world, irritated the grits out of her. And she's growing disturbed by the minute that she might pull all her hair out on the spot.

It was maddening.

And very dangerous.

Then, as if Seifer couldn't shock her further, in his deepest baritone voice, she heard him speak in all the civility an honorable gentleman can articulate, "So, to what do I owe the honor of this visit, Mr. President?"

She had no idea that he was even capable of intelligent speech.

Maybe if she recognized even just a little touch of sarcasm in that, it would've made her feel a bit better. But to her disappointment, his tone didn't even bear a slight acidity of cynicism. It was, Quistis thought disgustingly, a sincere gesture.

She was unexpectedly jealous. Seifer had never demonstrated any form of courteous interaction with her. Even if she was providing him with room and bed, all he did was infuriate her. All of a sudden, he decided to be friendly towards Irvine, now he's being polite with Laguna!

The air suddenly grew thick.

"Actually, I just got through telling Quistis of my uh…purpose," Laguna uttered. 

Seifer's gaze shifted to Quistis who tried to appear busy studying the floor. He looked back at Laguna and asked, "And what does this 'purpose' have to do with me?"

Laguna shifted uncomfortably in his seat then turned to Quistis and said, "Would you mind if you could excuse us for a moment?"

Her head snapped up and forgot whatever object it was she was staring at on the floor. What now? The situation is becoming more peculiar with each second. What kind of discussion does he need to conduct with Seifer that she doesn't already know? And why would he require her to leave? Unless Laguna kept a few details unsaid that was meant only for Seifer's ears. However, he did say that she may share the information only to those who know of his presence at Garden. And that would be Irvine.

And just Irvine. How Lovely.

Is Laguna trying to get his hand in on this? 

The old man is up to something. He might be a little goofy sometimes but he's still a crafty old man.

In any case, who was she to question his integrity? If privacy is what he needs, then privacy will he get. And right now, Irvine seems to be the only guy she can talk to regarding _him._

"Alright. I'll be back in two hours," she said curtly and scurried towards the door.

But before she managed to shut it, she heard Seifer call out. "Come back with food!" 

As if he could think of anything else, Quistis thought. 

The hallway suddenly looked more like a road to senselessness than a mere marble-tiled corridor, because Irvine just might prove himself useful for conversation. Although Selphie usually was the first person she'd come to talk to about distressing subjects, this specific subject, particularly _him_, warrants a conversation partner whom she can do bodily harm to.

She didn't want to mention his name. She'd rather refer to him as _him_, or better yet, the Golden-haired Frustration. It didn't take him anything more than just a sharp retort to annoy her. And just seconds ago, he didn't even say anything than just smile at her and it almost brought her down to her knees. A smile, for crying out loud! 

Maybe Laguna dropped something in her milk that caused her to react this way.

Strong, black coffee became more and more inviting than it smelled. She definitely needs something strong to keep her on her toes, keep her aware at all cost of what exactly she is feeling. And keep her awake since half the day has already gone by. Lord, this is going to be such a long and funny day. 

"You what!?!" Seifer thundered. He was shoving one foot in his pants when Laguna's words had hit him full force.

After Quistis had left the room, he couldn't ignore the sense of dread that crept up on him; dreaded what this man was about to say. But surprisingly, nothing Laguna had mentioned was worth dreading about. Until that one last significant information he'd just heard. He was stunned.

Seifer listened well enough to what the old man had to say. The rest of what Laguna told him made sense. Clearly, a brilliant man couldn't have made a better president. His leadership spoke of immeasurable greatness when he began to recount his role in the first and last Sorceress Wars. Seifer was probably too young to even remember Adel's dominance over the world, but the Ultimecia period stood out in his memory than any event in his life. He still couldn't bring himself to believe that the man standing before him was the same mastermind behind the success of both campaigns against the evil sorceresses. From the way he regaled the moment of triumph of cleverly trapping Adel, to the cunning strategy of defeating Ultimecia in her own world, he sounded more like a journalist than a president. 

But when Laguna got to the part about him. The part that he didn't know for five long years which began after being barred from Garden. For five years, unbeknownst to him and mostly to everyone else that Laguna had been his constant shadow. 

"Seifer, you have to realize that given my position, I have a duty to the people to guard and protect them at all costs. I was hoping you'd understand that," Laguna answered to his outburst. 

"And I'm supposed to feel better from that? That I'm doing the people a great big favor by letting myself be spied on? For five years!" he burst out. "It wasn't enough that I was expelled from Garden."

"I knew you would feel this way. But if it would relieve your mind that during your surveillance, you had my protection."

"Just as you protected Adel in outer space and check on her yourself?" Of course, he would do the same to him. Not in the physical sense of course, but Laguna did have his goons to do that job for him.

"I had a responsibility to control any possible threat that might arise. You can't deny that you had your hand in almost destroying the world." Laguna said mildly.

Just as he'd thought. No matter how many years might coat his past, trust was still something remotely possible to salvage. 

When he got his head out of the neck hole of his shirt, he didn't feel any different. "That doesn't change anything," he said bitterly. "The point is you deliberately invaded my life. Not to mention, that you weren't satisfied with my behavior of one year, not even two! You can't justify why you had to go on spying on me when I clearly have nothing threatening." 

"That was the reason I had in the beginning; to make sure you're not a danger to society. But as you said, you are no more a threat to the world."

Seifer held his height with his hands on his hips and gave Laguna one of his piercing stares. Just when he thought he'd finally lived his life according to his own devices, without someone to turn to and make it through the day without anyone's support, when all along he was under suspicion, in observation as if he was some sort of bacteria being studied under a microscope. He had been vulnerable. And he never hated feeling anything but. "It took you a while to realize that?"

Laguna shook his head and said, "Seifer, I know you're a good man. It's only that you don't want the world to see you as such."

He flung a hand in the air in mock gesture. "What do you think I've been trying to do these past five years? Even if I become a monk I doubt that half the earth's population would change their minds about me." 

Laguna didn't say anything.

He hoped that the old man felt a little twinge of guilt, but Seifer couldn't tell what exactly he was thinking. There seems to be more than just what he's letting him on to believe. Oh, he truly believed that Laguna has some sort of master plan mapped out in the beginning, or he wouldn't have continued spying on him this long. 

It was probably why he required Quistis to leave. 

Seifer decided to break the silence. "Does Quistis know?"

Laguna looked up. "That you were under Esthar surveillance?"

Seifer nodded.

"Yes, we've talked about it all morning. And I think Irvine is about to learn of it too. But that is the least of your concern." Laguna motioned for Seifer to sit down.

Something tells him that what's coming up next required him to be sitting down.

Seifer seated himself on the bed and propped an ankle over his knee. "Why do I suddenly get the feeling that you've got another surprise, Laguna?" And in a sarcastic tone he said, "Really the suspense is killing me."

Laguna just grinned. "You caught on well. I asked Quistis to leave for a reason."

"I know." It was obvious to him that whatever the old man is about to tell him is something he didn't intend for Quistis to hear. It was very odd how he _almost_ felt as if he wanted her there, that he might have felt a little bit more in control of the situation; he would have felt less in tatters. Odd and perturbing.

"Call me Uncle Laguna." The elderly man beamed. "Everyone will soon follow if they heard you calling me Uncle."

"What?"

To his surprise, Laguna pulled out a piece of paper and pen from Quistis' desk and wrote something he couldn't even begin to imagine what. Then he sat himself on the wicker chair before he returned his attention back to a disconcerted Seifer. "You're life, Mr. Almasy, is about to become more interesting." Then he offered him the piece of paper.

Seifer stared at the folded piece in Laguna's hand. He knew he shouldn't take it. But he felt the whispers of fate taunting him, daring him to reach out and do exactly that. Maybe it was curiosity. Or maybe the simple desire to shift the course of his life to something 'interesting'. But whatever the reason, he still should _not_ have taken it.

But he did anyway.

Seifer read the words.

And then he sank deeper to the bed, bloodless and breathless.

"I don't believe you," he whispered. "_I don't believe you_."

****

A/N: A week eh? Sorry about that bit. I know I know, it was short, but not to worry, Chapter 11 will follow at the end of this week!


	11. Chapter XI

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Chapter 11

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"The real winners in life are the people who look at every situation with an expectation that they can make it work or make it better." – Barbara Fletcher

__

Quistis gulped down the tea she'd been in the process of sipping. Tea wasn't exactly what she had in mind, but really, Irvine didn't have anything else in his cupboard. Of course, he is a sniper after all and that would mean that coffee isn't listed as his primary drink. 

Irvine was just as surprised to see her in his doorstep as she was at his living condition, not that he lived very far from Garden, he did after all, purchased a small convenient flat in Balamb two years ago. It's only that she didn't expect his apartment to be so neat and tidy. Some could say that one could eat off of his floor. 

"What do you think they're talking about now?" Irvine asked, not really looking at her since he was staring out his window and judging the sky.

"I'm not sure. Probably the same thing," she shrugged.

"That he was being spied on? Didn't Laguna already tell you that? So why would he ask you to leave?" Irvine removed himself from the window, sat himself across Quistis and looked at her intently.

"I think he knew what Seifer's reaction would be and he probably wanted to spare him the embarrassment, so he asked me to leave. It's not everyday that a person finds out that someone's been tailing him," she said pointedly.

"Well, on top of being kidnapped I'm sure," he returned. 

Quistis' eyes narrowed and suddenly seeing nothing but red. "I most certainly did not kidnap him. He was just…misplaced. That's all. A terrible misplacement caused by terrible timing." she bit out.

"That's not what he called it," Irvine put in.

"You shouldn't be talking to him as he's obviously polluting your brain," she scoffed.

"Or I could be polluting his," Irvine argued. He shook his head at her. "You sound as if he's already driven you crazy, and here I thought I was the only one who could do that. But he seems to be doing triple of my job." This earned him an angry look, but he rushed in to add, "He kept you awake last night, eh?"

Quistis was ready to wring his neck. "Oh for heaven's sake, Irvine. Must you make fun at every chance you get? Seriously, I don't find anything amusing in this situation."

"Sorry." He muttered, but it didn't really sound like he meant it. "I couldn't resist."

"Hmph, since when did you ever," she snorted.

"You should stop worrying, Quistis. Didn't Laguna say he'd take care of everything? You should be glad that Seifer will finally be out of your hair." Irvine leaned back in his seat.

Quistis acknowledged his statement with nothing more than an arch of her brow. Somehow, she couldn't bring herself to believe him. Because she's already formed an outlook. "One thing is for sure though. He will not, I repeat, will _not_ spend another night in my dorm room."

Irvine's face lit up with a grin. "I'll say, did he do something to you?"

She paused for a second and sought the right words that fully described her ordeal last night. Then she gave Irvine a somber look. "The man snores like a slaughtered cow," she said plainly.

"And you don't?" Irvine shot back disdainfully.

"I know I don't."

He tipped his chin at an angle. "Maybe, but you talk in your sleep." 

Quistis settled her teacup down and glared at him. Not that she believed herself to talk during asleep. But Irvine is the most likely person to know such a thing about her when he's the only one who could remember most of their childhood. Even if he's one of the closest friends she could easily talk to, she still held out things, which he might find incredibly amusing that he wouldn't miss the opportunity to poke fun at. She tilted her head and crossed her brows. "How would you know?" she asked suspiciously.

"Same as how _you_ would know that you _don't_ snore," he said smugly. 

He got her there. Drat! How does one catch oneself from snoring, indeed. "I assure you that I don't snore. Simply knowing that, is enough _not_ to make me"

"Well, maybe Seifer doesn't know that he does. If you tell him, he'd probably stop," he stated simply before taking another sip of tea. 

She pulled her head back. "Are you trying to provide me with a reason to let him stay?" Without taking her eyes from Irvine, Quistis stood up, walked over to his kitchen and placed her empty cup in the sink. 

"Of course not." Irvine countered. But even as he said so, he was hiding a cheeky smile behind his cup. "You're the one who came up with a lame excuse to get rid of him."

"Lame excuse?" she echoed.

"Just because the guy snores doesn't mean he deserves to be thrown out," he stated indignantly. "Just look at things from his point of view; he'd been banished from Gardens, spied on for five years, add kidnapped over that, and now you want to leave him homeless."

Quistis had the sudden urge to pour hot water over his head. "How many times do I have to repeat myself that I did not, _did not_ – ' she repeated, just in case his brain was too dulled by single-minded male pride to have understood her the first time. " – kidnap him."

"Alright, alright." Irvine raised both hands as if in surrender. "Don't work yourself into a snit."

"I am not working myself in a snit," she gritted. "I can't believe you're complaining on his behalf."

He downed the last drop of tea then tightened his lips at the corners. "All I'm saying is that you give the guy a chance. He's not so bad. Maybe you'll even come to like him after you find something you can talk about," he said firmly.

She stared at him for several seconds. There's something lurking behind that impish look. And there is definitely more to Irvine's idea than just suggesting that Seifer must stay in her dorm room. Dear God! Is he playing matchmaker? He's too sneaky not to have an objective. 

She rolled her eyes under closed lids. It wasn't a difficult estimation that Seifer, Irvine and Laguna all belong in the same pack. Clearly, schemers the lot of them. 

She made a sardonic chortle before saying, "Playing cupid, doesn't become you Irvine."

An eyebrow shot up and a corner of his lips pulled up as he answered, "Prince charming, maybe." He paused before he continued in a serious attitude. "Anyway, this is just a temporary arrangement for you. I doubt Seifer's enjoying his living condition as much as you are, so why don't you just try to get along. Make the best out of the situation." He handed her his cup to be placed in the sink and joined her in his kitchen.

Quistis stared at the cup in her hand and mulled over his last sentence before saying, "He's really annoying the moment he opens his mouth, you know."

Irvine shook his head in defeat. "I almost forgot how you can be so childish sometimes."

Quistis' jaw jutted out. "I'm not being childish."

Irvine shot her a look that said she couldn't defend that argument.

"Oh, alright," Quistis blew out, "I'll try to be on my best behavior." 

"I'm curious to find out what makes up a good behavior."

"I'm sure I'll find out as I go along," she muttered.

Irvine gave his head a little weary shake. "If you can't ignore the man, do something. Write in your journal, read a book. Anything."

His suggestion took her by surprise, "Read a book? There couldn't be a story more ridiculous than the one I'm living right now." Quistis was rather startled by his tone. Irvine had just lectured her, which was a first because it was usually the other way around.

Irvine gave up. He swatted the air that meant he'd quit arguing with her and walked back towards the window. There suddenly seems to be something in the sky that caught his interest instead.

"Anyway, I think I better get back," she declared.

He turned around and asked, "Did you walk?"

She nodded. "It's not very far. Nothing more than ten minutes really."

"Take a cab. I think it's going to rain," he predicted. How very much Irvine-like to always consider a lady's welfare. 

"You might be right," she agreed.

"I'm always right," Irvine said with a sniff.

"No, you just _think_ you're always right." Quistis smiled slyly. She emptied the teapot and placed it in the sink along with the cups and saucers. "I should go," she said.

Irvine tore himself away from the window and returned his attention to her. "I'll call you a cab," he offered. He reached for the phone and dialed a taxi service number then made the necessary request to his address.

She thanked goodness for Irvine even if he was a touch too cheeky for a friend. Not only was he the sort of friend whose concern for someone else comes first, he also has the ability to make the worst situations sound so analytical. It was his gift, she reflected. Maybe the trait came with being a sniper, where every situation is measured at every angle. Still, he does enjoy poking fun at her, which, she thought, was not amusing half the time.

"It'll be here in ten minutes," he announced after hanging up the phone.

"Thanks, Irvine," she returned. "For everything."

"Hey, I'll have none of that," he waved off. "What are friends for if not for platonic tea services and timing weather forecasts?" He said almost jauntily and looked quite pleased with himself.

"Actually, I was rooting for coffee, but tea almost had the same effect," she said.

Irvine flopped himself onto the couch and began flipping through a newspaper, "Well, now that you've just compared it to coffee, I just might serve nothing else but hot-water next time you visit," he said without looking up.

"I rarely visit."

Then his head snapped in her direction as if he suddenly remembered something. "Speaking of visits, are you joining us at Mrs. Dincht tonight?"

She wore a confused look. She didn't expect Mrs. Dincht to invite them again after having them over just last evening. "Tonight? What's going on there tonight?"

"Dinner," he said brusquely.

"Again?"

"Sure, why not?" He shrugged then continued, "I do love Mrs. Dincht, but I really just go for the food."

Just as Irvine had predicted. It began pouring like there's not tomorrow. When Quistis left Irvine's house and returned to Garden, she stopped by first at the cafeteria. She remembered something about coming back with food to her dorm room. Food. Men could barely think of anything else. Maybe if she kept Seifer's stomach full, he wouldn't be able to say anything smart that would sure to drive her crazy. Maybe he won't be able to say anything at all with his mouth stuffed. 

Irvine's words kept playing over and over in her head. _Make the best out of the situation. _Ha! That is unless she could find something good about it first. She doesn't have much experience on how to keep pets, let alone keep a human being. All she knows about pet maintenance is feeding them. 

Feed the dog and keep him happy. Same thing goes for a gold fish.

And men.

Now that she thought about it, food really might be the sole purpose of why men exist on earth. Of course that conclusion was singularly based on her observation of the past few days. Counting, of course, Ellone's wedding when all of the invited male species practically whined for the ceremony to finish and then later dove into their plates with so much vigor, and not to mention that she caught Laguna creeping about the Garden's halls looking for the kitchen (she eventually ended up creeping along with him), now Irvine's just taking advantage of Mrs. Dincht's hospitality to satisfy his appetite, not that he didn't like Mrs. Dincht. Everybody loved Mrs. Dincht. It's just that Irvine couldn't stand his own cooking. And neither could anyone else.

Seifer as a pet. The thought made her shudder. 

And it made her smile.

It's not such a very kind view on her part, but at least she found something humorous in the situation. Then Irvine's voice echoed in her mind again. _Make the best out of the situation. _Oh she couldn't make the best out if it, but she definitely can laugh over it.

Bless Irvine and his ineffective counsel. 

"And what are you having, sweetheart?" Her train of thoughts was suddenly broken by a cheerful greeting of the cafeteria server. Quistis almost forgot that she had reached the head of the line-up. 

"I'll get each of everything," she requested.

The stout woman smiled in a suspicious manner and said, "That's a lot for a scrawny little thing like you. Have you been starving yourself, girl?" 

Quistis thought that the woman must be new to Garden or she would've recognized her in the beginning. Even as she thought her a little too forward for a lunch lady, she didn't mind it. She rather liked her forwardness and offered her an honest smile. "I decided to include dinner in it and save myself the trip back."

"Ah, take out then. Got a lot of work, eh?" the woman said as she forked the potatoes into a plate-box. 

"More than a lot. It's been rather hectic lately" Quistis replied. She found it easy to fall into a friendly conversation. Something to pass the time as she let her collect the food. A lot of food. But she had no doubt that Seifer would just inhale it all anyway.

"Ach, the kitchen was turned inside out too. This morning we had to bake another batch of brownies," she said as she moved on to the beef stew and soup entrées. " They just disappeared overnight, and there were two trays!" she continued. "I hope you don't mind if I didn't pack you a dessert. They're still in the oven so come back down when they're good and ready," the older woman rambled on. She didn't seem to notice that Quistis had gone crimson from the neck up.

"I don't mind. I'll help myself to a chocolate bar in one of our vending machines," she blurted. If she only knew that those brownies were supposed to be served the next day, she wouldn't have even thought of touching it. But they just looked so tempting that it practically called out to her. And they just tasted so divine that neither her nor Laguna noticed they had eaten two trays. But then again, it really was her first time stealing from the Garden kitchen anyway. And she hadn't indulged herself for so long other than the alcohol incident.

The lunch server presented her order in a neat pile of plate-boxes inside a plastic bag with a cheerful smile. "Don't be shy to come back."

"Thanks." She'll probably be back just as soon as Seifer gets hungry again. And that probably won't be long.

Seifer suddenly wasn't feeling very well. Although his health was in good state, he still didn't feel like himself. He was clutching the crumpled ball of paper in his fist. He somewhat wished it would disintegrate in his palm. Wished that he'd see nothing but powder the moment he'd open his hand. But he was afraid that if he does so, he just might unwrap what probably was the most significant choice he could ever make in his life. Afraid of its great magnitude. But even more afraid that he just might actually consider making it. His fist tightened. The blasted paper is still there. 

He didn't know what else to make of it. Nothing seemed to make sense the moment he read the note. Nothing sounded so ludicrous. And nothing had ever sounded so simple. And as outrageous as it is that was exactly how Laguna made it sound. So utterly simple.

But insane.

He can't be the man everyone wishes to be. For as long as he'd known himself, his life never really followed the path of a saint. Not that he was the worst sort of evil. All he did was avoid any sort of attachments to an obligation to society. It isn't that he didn't care. But little things like an overturned truck he'd passed by along his way to Dollet, or a fire consuming a house in Winhill were just the kinds he simply couldn't ignore. He didn't have any excuse to. So he'd just pick himself up and help out.

But he'd never go out of his way to actually improve the human condition. He was just one man after all. His living condition alone is more than unstable. Miserable if he wanted to exaggerate. But every now and then, he simply had to get _away._ There was just no other way to describe it. 

He had no clue what it was he really wanted. Deep down inside it's something he wanted to do. The places he'd been to didn't particularly inspire him. He still found nothing in everywhere. So he'll go and leave to any destination. Anything to fill the void in his life that holed up in there five years ago. 

He wanted something he can point to and say, 'this is what my life is all about.'

He wanted a purpose.

And all of a sudden, it was within his reach. No, it was more like offered to him on a silver platter. A chance to give his life some sort of meaning. It was literally there in the palm of his hands. Crumpled into a tight ball. 

It was overwhelming.

And nothing could be more preposterous. 

He smiled wryly to himself. This was the cruelest irony of all. He'd long ago given up on his dreams. More than that, he'd actually given up dreaming. And now, something akin to his every hopes and dreams can so be easily realized simply by that single stump of paper in his hand. It had practically wedged a place in his life. No, Laguna had practically wedged it in his life.

He tossed the balled note into an empty wastebasket. There wasn't any room in his life for something that big. He'll just be setting himself up for failure.

Seifer looked up at the sudden twist of the doorknob. It opened to reveal Quistis who was desperately balancing a pile of binders and folders and…did he smell food?

He rushed towards her to help and grabbed the top of the stack. 

"I don't know if you actually wanted to help me or if you're just excited to see food," she said, steering clear of the door as she closed it with her foot.

"As glad as I am to see you, the food just made your entrance more exciting," he said with an expression that was altogether innocent and sly at the same time.

She blew out an unladylike snort. "I knew you'd be hungry so I salvaged whatever they were serving downstairs."

"Really, you did that for me?" He clutched a hand to his chest in mock hurt. "I'm touched. Now I'm really beginning to think you're coming to like me."

"God help me."

Seifer began to inspect the plate-boxes and opened them one by one. "Hey, where's the dessert?"

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "It's ten in the morning. Breakfast is unlikely to have a dessert."

"Not unless you planned on including my lunch and dinner here," he complained.

"You're going to have to do without. There was some commotion downstairs about a case of the missing brownies," she said in a dry tone. 

Then he wore an adorably hangdog expression and said, "Too bad. It had been a while since I had desserts in my meals." 

One thing she couldn't resist though, were _those _kind of expressions when someone looked as if they'd just been pulled off from their first pony or their dog had suddenly died or broke a wheel in their bike. She'd seen those puppy-dog eyes in her younger students from ages six to eight and it would strongly pull at her heart then end up giving them a higher mark than they deserved. And Seifer's twenty-four! How was it possible that he could put on a face of a five-year old?

"Oh alright! I'll get you a cookie or something."

He just grinned, that loose easy grin that bared flashy white teeth and said, "Now I think you just love me." 

"Hyne forbid."

"You look like a bag of bones. Sit," he pulled out her desk chair and continued to say, "Eat."

"No, thanks. I already ate," Her insides suddenly felt funny. Not because of the thought of eating again. It has something to do with him being unexpectedly…nice. Except for the part about being called a 'bag of bones.'

"Don't think I'm not being a gracious guest. I'd hate to be starving my host," he drawled, popping a potato fry into his mouth.

"Oh, be my guest. Eat yourself into oblivion,"

His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners and looked at her sideways. "I just might think you've put something in my food."

"It would take something stronger than poison to kill you."

"A steel door maybe," he sniggered

"The steel door suffered more from the bump than you have. Look at you," she said, throwing a hand in his direction. " – you're practically back on your feet."

"I am on my feet," he pointed out.

"So it appears," she muttered. She flicked the switch on her desk lamp then asked, "Where's Laguna?"

His lips curved slightly. "I was wondering how long it was going to take you to ask."

"Well, I'm asking now. Where did he go?"

"I don't know," he said simply, reaching for another plate-box.

If she wanted to ask what they had talked about, she didn't voice it. She knew her place when a private talk is a private talk. And it was one of such or she wouldn't have been asked to leave earlier.

Quistis sat on the desk chair he'd offered earlier, not to eat, but get some unfinished paperwork done. "Anyway, I have to do some work if you don't mind," she continued.

He didn't mind of course, because when he moved onto the plate-box with the beef stew, he was useless for conversation after that.

****

A/N: Falling in love with Irvine yet? Dying to know what was in that note? Sorry if it took me ages to update. I'm virtually busy with my other projects. But have no fear, this one will not go unfinished. The mystery of Laguna's note will be unveiled, next chapter, which will be posted on Wednesday, August 14, 2002. I'm really glad that you are enjoying my story. Your kindness will not be overlooked as I live to please.


	12. Chapter XII

****

Chapter 12

__

"I speak with passion; from the heart! That's what matters most!" - Laguna Loire

It was still raining. Thunder split the air. Lightning flashed the sky. And Quistis was nearing her wit's end. The letters proved to be incomprehensible the moment her eyes grew nostalgic and her head began to ache. She didn't even notice that her handwriting had gone abysmal until she looked over her previous work and compared it to what she had just written. More like scribbled. 

There was no denying how much she needed a break. She pinched the bridge of her nose then made a furtive glance at her wristwatch. 

Six o'clock. She needed a break a long time ago. Has it been eight hours already? Minus her bathroom breaks, there weren't many reasons why she had to get up from her desk since she began working. 

She moved her books to the side but left them open. Even if she pushed herself tonight, it's doubtful she'd make it to her deadline. And it's not as if she didn't set the date herself; she can move it back if she wished. It's just that she rarely had reason to do so. Not until an unlikely intrusion on her schedule occurred.Organization, she believed, is the key to success after all.

"Are you done?"

She twisted her head to the source of the question. 

Seifer was turning the pages of a book he'd picked up beside her bed. "You've been at it since this morning," he continued without looking up.

She removed her glasses and placed them inside their case. "I'm amazed you've managed to keep silent ever since."

"I was reading," This time, he tossed her a cutting look as if to say that he _does _read and practically has more brains than mouth.

There was a considerably thick leather bound novel sitting on his right, no doubt he'd already finished in one sitting. She was thankful she didn't own any romantic drivels. He just didn't strike her as the bookish sort. But it was probably because he wasn't stuck anywhere else that drove him to read. 

"You're bored," Her tone suggested that it was more of a deduction than a question.

"You just noticed?" He threw the book across the bed and stretched over to the window. "Can't believe it's still raining. It never rains in Balamb," he said more to himself than to anyone.

"You've been away very long. I hardly think you'd know what goes on in Balamb," she said testily.

His brows, thick but delicately winged, drew together. "I'm a traveler, I think I should know enough about the weather. But as for the goings-on," he pushed the curtains farther aside to expose more of the window before continuing, "You'd know more about it than I would since you live here exclusively."

Quistis had the habit of trying to read between the lines of people's conversations, and she had the suspicion that Seifer was really saying that her life is more banal compared to his mixed adventures in different lands. With different weather conditions, of course.

She couldn't keep from putting her two cents in for defense and said, "I get out from time to time when I get an assignment or two."

"Sounds like fun." His eyes, still never leaving the window, grew reflective.

"Sometimes."

Lightning struck and it practically lit up the room for a full second.

"Hmm, I bet," he drawled mindlessly, not really caring of what they were talking about anymore.

Quistis let out a sigh, a soft breathy sound that Seifer somehow felt across his entire body. "I don't think I can do anything about your boredom. It doesn't seem there's anything you can do around here besides read."

"I'll think of something," he muttered. He didn't say anything after that. He was busy looking outside.

Quistis didn't speak either. She was busy looking at him.

It was dead air.

The only element, which broke the silence, was the thundering roar from the heavens. In some strange way, Quistis didn't feel right sitting there in her own room. In her own skin. She couldn't bring the right words out of her mouth. She hated this. Silence. Mind numbing silence. It was easy enough to get annoyed and exchange blows with him. But when it comes down to _polite _conversation, she was drawing up a blank. 

Seifer appeared ominous, standing there like some mighty god framed by the window as lightning crashes. Even if he had his back to her, she still found his stillness quite unsettling. She didn't know what to say once he suddenly puts on that dark demeanor. It would be like making a ripple on calm treacherous waters. She didn't know where to paddle.

He's got his battle with his demons. That was for sure. But she wasn't in the position to interfere with his torment, or he wouldn't have hidden it well. Sometimes, she could almost see a desperate bleak look in his eyes, and there had to be a reason why he suddenly fell silent. It was almost a struggle not to get up and lay a consoling hand on his shoulder. But she didn't know if he would accept that for something, or brush it away. Or he might give her an odd look that would say 'what are you doing', and so she chose to remain sitting there, staring at his back.

But as surprises went, he swiveled around with such alacrity that Quistis almost scrambled over her desk, horrified at the thought of being caught staring.

"I think I - " He stopped short then pulled his head back a bit and gave her a suspicious look. "Were you staring at me?"

Her eyes slid to his face. "No, I was - I was reading."

"Your book is closed," he indicated.

She gasped and looked down. "It's not!"

He smiled meaningfully, "But you still had to look to be sure, didn't you?"

Quistis had more restraint than she thought to have not picked up the mentioned book and aim it at his head. And just to think she was considering to comfort him earlier.

"I understand," he continued in a surprisingly cheerful tone, "I heard most women like the dark brooding type." Then he wiggled his brows for added effect signifying he knew what she was thinking.

"Well, I'm not most women," she said in a huff.

"No kidding."

She wanted to get off the subject and instead return to what he wanted to say earlier before he caught her staring. "Anyway, you were saying something."

He returned his attention back to the window. But this time, she could see his profile and not just his back. "Never mind, I already forgot." 

Something about the tone of his voice said that he didn't forget, but rather, he'd refuse to share it at the last minute. She deflated at that. It was unwarranted that she should feel so. She had no right to expect Seifer to share his secrets with her. 

Laguna regaled her with the accounts of his surveillance. But a deep coiling in her stomach wanted to find out more. 

She wanted to know why he traveled so much, and the kinds of adventures he'd had. She wanted to know why he chose the gun-blade as his primary weapon, or the Hyperion for his insignia. And if she was feeling brave she'd ask him if he remembered any of their childhood. Something they had once shared, but lost somewhere along the way. But most of all, the scariest part of all and probably, if she wasn't too terrified to admit, the most thrilling; she wanted to ask if he'd missed her.

It was too late to cry over spilled milk now. Even if she swore that he will remain alien to her, she couldn't deny that he was a mystery she can't ignore. He was a puzzle. One minute he's being completely insufferable, the next he's trying to be lightheartedly nice then he would pull on this quiet behavior as if he was somewhere unreachable.

And why shouldn't she try to reach him? They will be living together until Laguna puts his plan into action (whatever that is). If they're going to share a roof over their heads, then the least they could do is be comfortable in each other's company if they weren't throwing insults.

She breathed in and braced herself for small talk. "Seifer?"

"Hmmn?" He still didn't face her.

"Did you miss - " She faltered.

Finally, he looked at her. "Did I miss what?"

"Did you miss Balamb?" She tilted her head to the side, eager to hear his answer.

He grew pensive for a moment, then moved himself to sit on the bed. They were now face to face with each other. The window at last forgotten.

Seifer moved his mouth several times before the words emerged. "I don't think so. It's a nice enough place but I can't find anything I might miss."

"Is that why you left? To find out if you'll miss Balamb?" Her questions just fell automatically. It seems like the proper question to an unlikely answer.

"No. I think I knew before then that I wouldn't miss Balamb at all."

Of course, she thought, he wouldn't miss Balamb. He wouldn't miss any place at all. This was a man who never calls anything home. And one has to have a home in order to miss it entirely. She couldn't have picked a better topic.

"How 'bout you? Did you miss me?" he asked wickedly.

Her blush was instantaneous. And her mouth was opening and closing, and it made her look like a fish out of water. What was she supposed to say to that? Wasn't she thinking along the same lines earlier? And here he is, actually having the audacity to ask her what she couldn't.

She began with a broken sentence. "I - I think - I mean - I uhh..."

"Relax," he said, laughter beginning to bubble up in him. "I wasn't serious."

Then her countenance changed. He had just made fun of her.

"You never are," she said sharply.

Oh, of course he likes making fun of her but his timing couldn't have been more perfect. The only way she could get through to this guy was through jokes and let him play with her emotions. Just when she thought she was falling into a decent conversation with him, he'd do something to embarrass her. The image of a book striking his head looked very tempting.

"Come on, you didn't take that seriously, did you?"

She didn't answer.

"Oh," he blinked. He suddenly felt like the worst sort of ass. "Well, if it's any consolation, I think I missed you." He was trying to smile, but his jaw was tense, and the corner of his lips wobbled. 

The moment the words escaped his lips, it became apparently untrue.

Quistis' face contorted into that of infuriation and that was when Seifer realized he'd just said the exact wrong thing.

"You know, just when I thought I could talk to you like a normal human being, you'd go and say something from your ass."

He winced at her use of profanity. "Look, I - "

She cut him off, "Then you get the nerve to humiliate me." She thrashed a hand in the air and added, "And to make it worse, you try to humble yourself by saying something that's beyond believable."

"Hold on a moment, I - "

"You never take anything seriously. You don't care about anything an - " 

Quistis didn't even have time to react when he yanked her from her seat, as his hand gripped tightly at her upper arms. And whatever she'd meant to say was lost, because she found herself staring into a pair of hot, angry, green orbs.

"Don't you dare tell me who I am," he said with enough vehemence in his voice. "You have no right to tell me what I am, and what I'm not."

He released his hold on her, slowly, as if he didn't even realize he'd put them there. "You don't know me," he hissed.

Quistis knew he possessed a temper. But she didn't know which buttons to push anymore.

She straightened, smoothing out her skirts in an awkward, defensive gesture, then she leveled a stony stare at him, to match his and said flippantly, "You're right. I don't know you."

Seifer tipped his head back and lifted his chin.

"You can't even find your own identity," she finished.

And then, while Seifer continued to stare at her with all the weight of the world, she swept out of the room. It was, she thought as she descended the steps of the Garden lobby, quite the most splendid exit of her existence. 

It was really too bad, then, that the man she'd been leaving was the only one in whose company she wanted to remain.

Seifer slumped in a big heap on the bed. He felt the walls closing in on him, feeling every bit more of a prison than anything else. He had to get out of there. He didn't know how long he could stay within close range with Quistis anymore. 

It seems like he'd always find a way to irritate her. He hadn't meant to. He didn't intend to, but damn it, he could never find the right words to say to her. It would always come out insulting, when all he really meant to be was funny. And then she would look at him as if he was some sort of three-headed monster, and ten times the fool. 

He didn't know when it began. But when Quistis had given him that smile when she entered the room that morning, he felt like he was ten feet tall. 

It scared him.

If a woman can put a man that high, then she can certainly bring him down in a hard fall.

He couldn't possibly imagine her in his life. He can't imagine anyone in his life. It is imperative, he thought angrily, that he must get away from there. Before he gets used to seeing her every waking moment.

Seifer fought off a groan. Damn, he'd hurt her. He really hadn't meant to injure her feelings. It seems he'd done irreparable damage to their unlikely truce. 

And to wake up seeing her every morning was entirely something else. It was a big enough reason why he had to get away. She was a distraction. He wasn't blind. Quistis is a desirable woman, and she's got a fan club to prove it.

A man like him, trapped with an attractive woman like her, add a bed to that, and what kind of images would that leave him?

He leapt out of bed and ran to the window. Good. Still raining and no one was in sight. He shrugged out of his shirt and replaced it with his coat instead. He packed up his belongings and threw the cast off shirt in. Then he looked out the window again. Good, still no one.

"Boots, boots," he muttered, glancing around the room. Where the hell are his boots? Ah, there they were. He grabbed the pair and yanked them on.

Back to the window. Still no one. Excellent. If his calculations are correct, the ledge would lead straight to a roof which stretches out across the courtyard; a roof that was only ten to eleven feet from the ground. In no time, he'll be free.

Seifer threw one leg over the sill and stepped carefully on the ledge. From there, it was an easy steady, and balancing act to the low roof, then to the ground.

And from there, it was straight to the beach. To the very cold beach.

To take a very cold swim.

Quistis found herself standing at the front steps of Zell's house. She didn't plan on coming, she said as much to Irvine. But where else, besides her room could she go, where she didn't have to think about _him. _

The door opened and Zell was framed in the doorway. "Hey, you made it! Irvine said you couldn't come."

"I changed my mind," she said with a hesitant smile.

"Come in, come in." He ushered her inside and welcomed her to a view of the dinner table.

They were all there. Minus Rinoa, who probably returned home to Deling. Laguna was sitting at the head of the table. Squall appeared he'd rather be somewhere else, but the food was enough to persuade him to stay.

Then Selphie noticed her arrival. "Quistis!" 

Everybody turned to see her.

"I thought you said you couldn't come," Irvine muttered from behind a glass of water.

"And miss Mrs. Dincht cooking?"

Mrs. Dincht, who had just emerged from the kitchen smiled at her. "You're just in time, take a seat, why don't you?"

"Thank you." 

Irvine pulled out a chair for her at the end of the table. She'll be sitting at the corner of Selphie and Irvine. But before she sat, she heard Irvine whisper, "Why did you leave him alone? He'll be bored out of his wits."

"I could care less about his wits. He doesn't have any to start with," she said between gritted teeth, all the while trying to hold a smile.

"Is everything alright?" Laguna asked.

Quistis didn't miss entirely what he meant and she answered, "Yes, everything's fine." Laguna didn't look quite convinced, but he managed to smile anyway.

And because of - What the...?

Did she just see Squall fling a pea over Zell's head?

He's becoming stranger by the minute.

"Quistis, I've got the receipt for the shoes. You can return them if you want and buy yourself something else," Selphie reached in her purse then handed her a square piece of paper.

"No, I can't. It's not right," she refused. It was embarrassing to talk about money in mixed company, not to mention a pair of shoes. In front of men, nonetheless.

"I insist," Selphie shoved the receipt in Quistis' pockets. "I don't think you'll wear those again anyway."

"Oh," was all she could say. She smiled at Selphie's consideration.

Everybody was about to dig in when Laguna stood up and began clapping his glass with a spoon.

"I have an announcement to make." Laguna declared. 

Zell was already munching on a broccoli while Squall was spooning mashed potatoes onto his plate, but their attention was solely focused on what Laguna was about to say.

"I think that Balamb is one of the nicest place I've ever had the pleasure to stay at," he paused and placed his glass back on the table.

Zell clapped and beamed a loopy grin. He's the only one clapping. 

"I'm not finished, though" Laguna continued.

Zell ceased clapping.

"I can fish here anytime I want, I love the salt sea air. And most of all, I'm closer to the people I care about."

Quistis saw Squall reach for a glass of water before he choked on potatoes.

"So, everyone. You hear it first from me, that I am getting old and..." he stopped for emphasis in suspense.

They were hanging on to his words. Irvine leaned forward. Selphie leaned forward. And Zell leaned forward. Squall was going to lean forward but he caught himself just in time.

Laguna lifted his glass again and initiated a toast. "I'm going to resign. I decided to retire here in Balamb."

There was a clutter of spoons, forks and knives.

Zell choked on his bread stick.

Irvine was sputtering water.

Selphie looked like a startled bird.

And Squall, he just looked like a statue. In all conclusion, everyone was dumbfounded. And everyone remained that way as they ate.

By the time dinner was over, the rain still haven't ceased. They didn't broach anything more about Laguna's announcement, they just ate in silence. Probably because they could hear Squall's teeth grating against each other all through out the meal. They weren't in any position to question Laguna's decision, maybe except for Squall. That was why everybody had kept their mouth shut.

She has more problems to deal with than concern herself with a father-son spat. 

It was inevitable but she's going to have to face Seifer eventually.

As she neared her door, she couldn't help but realize how she didn't like that they had parted ways in such awkward terms. 

She was going to have to apologize. 

He was right of course. As usual. He'd point something out that was beyond her understanding. He was good at that.

She finally stood in front of her door and was beginning to turn her key. 

Quistis inhaled a lungful of air before swinging it open.

Her room was empty.

He wasn't there.

She released the breath she'd been holding and removed her coat to hang it behind her door. She glanced around to look for any sign of Seifer. The bathroom door was closed. He's probably inside, she thought.

She reached inside her pocket and felt a piece of paper and mindlessly crumpling it. Thinking it was garbage she threw it in her wastebasket and she let herself fall heavily on the bed.

She was about to close her eyes, about to fall asleep and forgetting she still have to apologize to Seifer, when her eyes flew open. "The receipt!" she nearly cried. 

Quistis scrambled towards the garbage bin and plucked out the paper she'd thrown in earlier. How stupid was she to almost throw away three-hundred gills? She began to smooth out the squared piece when she realized what she had in her hands wasn't the receipt at all.

It was a note.

Her eyes strained to read the wrinkled letters.

__

Seifer Almasy,

I choose you to be my successor. You will not disappoint me. I have every faith in you. If you choose to acknowledge this calling, you know where to contact me.

Laguna Loire,

President of Esthar

Quistis' dropped the note, along with her jaw as if a lightning bolt had just struck her then and there. "Oh my God!"

She made her way to the bathroom door and started to knock. But when her knuckles connected to the wood, it swayed open. 

Seifer wasn't there. She looked around the small room.

He wasn't anywhere.

He'd left. Seifer was gone.

****

A/N: I know...not much of a suspense. I'm sorry, but I won't be around for the next week. I shall be hiking in the great outdoors. No form of technology or civilization whatsoever. So, the next update will be Saturday, August 24, 20002. **HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO FIRE MISTRESS!!**

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!!!Important!!! If you decide to review this chapter, please be considerate to those who have NOT yet read this part, and refrain from including anything that might spoil it for them. Your thoughtfulness will be very much appreciated. Thank you.


	13. Chapter XIII

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Chapter 13

__

"If clothes make the man, then naked people have little or no influence to society." - Oscar Wilde

The rain didn't stop and it had grown worse. Much worse. It became so violent that the town had feared their roofs might take to the air, and so everyone locked anything with an opening to their homes. And any person would be insane to set out to sea during a storm.

And Seifer was swimming naked and definitely out of his mind.

By the time he noticed it had grown into a full storm he was already halfway to FH. 

Even as his arms and legs were tired and his breathing became more than labored, he pushed himself to go back. He was ready to take whatever the ocean threw at him. The cold added to his difficulty had made his body wrack in shudders. The wind howled behind his ears, whispering that he wasn't going to make it. But by God, he was going to try. He had enough force to drive him to make it. No mere water was going to kill him and damn it all if he allowed that. And most especially, he's not going to die in a squall.

The thought just made him swim faster. But it seems the sudden upsurge of water became more than just an obstacle but rather, a ridicule on his pathetic struggle with nature. 

He was swimming more going back than he did going in. He might as well have been a hundred miles away. The shore was coming into view every few times when a wave would allow him to see it; but it was still too far. He was tired; he was at least going to admit that. 

The tide was higher and the current more intense. Instead of pushing him to shore, it had thrust him deep under, preventing him from surfacing for air. The sea had engulfed him whole. His arms flailed to float himself up, and his legs kicked wildly, but the waves had made sure he stayed under water. 

Seifer felt his body weaken.

It was dark. He saw nothing but pitch darkness under the freezing sea. It was frightening. Not the cold darkness, but mostly, the nothingness. And that was where he thought his life was going to end. With nothing and the cold darkness. Nobody knew where he was, nobody was aware he was drowning. 

Probably come morning, they'll just discover his dead carcass washed up on shore.

He felt agonizingly helpless. 

But he had one last thing to hold on to. He still had the strength of his mind. He wasn't going to die. He can't leave this world without leaving some sort of mark he'd made for himself. A mark he can be proud of; a mark everyone will be proud of. He wasn't going to let the ocean beat him, not after traveling over this tub for over five years. And he wasn't going to die from a 'Squall'.

And those as his driving force, he drew all the remaining strength in him and kicked with all the fury and desperation in his body. His arms weaving in all directions through the water, pushing himself up, fighting, struggling. He wasn't going to fail. 

It almost seemed like a miracle when his head, finally emerged from the water. He sucked in air, precious air. He had won. Or so he thought. Another gigantic wave was coming forth, and he'll be damned if he's going to go under again. 

Seifer propelled his arms to race against the oncoming current. As long as he had ample oxygen, he'll make it. He was almost to the shore. He could almost make out the white sands that separated the water from the land. He swam with the ferocity of a man with a mission. 

But it looks as if his mission was about to fail, when the surf caught up with him. He sucked in as much air as his lung could take before the sea swallowed him again. He was going to hang on. Damn right he was going to. He'd hang on for all eternity if he had to. 

And then the miracle of all miracles happened. A pair of slender arms enclosed around him, drawing him to the shallow ends. She intended to save him. 

Then he felt the long threads of hair, tickling his face, his neck. It was too dark to make out a face. But one thing was clear. 

It was a woman. Every part of her that pressed against him had him told him so. He was being rescued by a mermaid. He didn't see legs or fins to come to that conclusion. To him, she was just a faceless mermaid.

Seifer didn't care where she came from, he held on to her for dear life. She was leading him to the shore, keeping the both of them submerged had made it easier for them to swim a bit faster than they would have on the surface, where they were open to the crashing waves. 

She seems to know which way to steer and so Seifer trusted her enough to expect to touch land soon.

And touch earth he did. At last, his fingers felt the familiar coarseness of sand under him as his outstretched arms continued to paddle in the shallow ends. It almost felt like forever when they had finally crashed on the sand in a heap. 

He breathed in a lungful of air. He was going to savor it tonight. Because even if he survived the perilous ocean, it looks as if something else was bound to kill him instead; either an attack of pneumonia, as his lungs seemed to be burning a hundred degrees, or of shock

The woman was no mermaid, but nothing more than Quistis. 

"You…" she paused to pant. "…Are…CRAZY!"

He turned his face to the side and looked at her unpretentiously. "What I am…is naked," he said. The water lapping at his back was cold and he needed to let her know that _he_ was cold.

"I…here," Quistis looked away diffidently and removed her soaked coat and draped it over him. It didn't help of course, but it would cover him for now. She looked around for his coat, doubtless soaked through as well, because hers was much too short over him. 

She spotted the infamous gray coat dangling dependently on a tree branch, probably whipped by the storm. She turned back to Seifer and whispered, "Stay here."

"Don't go," he got out.

She steadied him with a hand before she stood up. "I'll be back. I'm just going to get your coat." 

Seifer settled back into the sand and waited for her to return. He was so tired, and so cold, he just wanted to fall asleep. Nothing sounded so lovely in years. His lids slowly glided over his eyes ready to fall into deep slumber.

"Seifer, wake up!" Something heavy landed on his back. He opened his eyes and recognized his coat sitting on top of him. 

"You're back." 

"Of course I'm back, now put on your coat and get to your feet," she ordered, all the while pulling him up from his arms.

He silently did as he was told, but the getting-on-his-feet part was a little more difficult. His legs were wobbly, and his head was spinning in a thousand different directions. The ground swayed under him and most especially, he was still cold. Every time he inhaled, it felt like a sting. 

Seifer shivered. He never shivered. But damn it, he couldn't help it. Then he faltered in his steps, and Quistis had to hold him. She became his bolster on their walk towards Balamb. He was going to be sick. He knew he was just going to be absolutely sick when he was seized by a wave of coughs, the deep hacking kind that rumbled down in his chest. His throat felt like it had been ripped by a razor blade.

"Seifer, are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he gasped, jerking slightly while he was coughing.

"You don't sound fine."

"Just a headache, that's all," he said with a wince. But damn, his lungs felt sore. He released another fit of coughs, this batch was a lot worse than earlier.

"That didn't sound like your head," she said, giving him what she obviously hoped was an angry look. But it didn't look like an angry look. In truth, she looked terribly concerned.

"Probably moved," he muttered.

"We have to get you to bed."

He grinned. "Will you join me?"

She lurched back. "Now I know you're feverish."

He lifted his hand to feel his forehead, but he smacked his nose instead. "Ow!" he yelped.

Quistis winced in sympathy.

Finally, his hand made it's way to his forehead. "Hmmm, maybe I'm a bit hot."

His condition was horribly familiar to her and a man's health was at stake, so Quistis reached out and touched her hand to his brow. It was burning. "You need to get out of those wet clothes," she said.

Seifer looked down as if forgetting he doesn't have anything on underneath that wet coat. "Uh-huh," he murmured thoughtfully. He began to remove the only clothing he had on.

"Not now!" she barked.

"You know, I'm usually more impressive, but the weather…" he trailed off, seeing that she caught his meaning.

Quistis removed her hold on him. "You're sick. Sick, sick, sick!" she ousted.

"I'm beginning to believe that now," he drawled. 

"I'm not going to say anything anymore. I'm shutting up and I don't care if you say something," she stated indignantly.

"Smart girl."

She didn't say anything. She did as she said and kept quiet. They walked to Balamb that way. Not saying a word to each other. Naturally, he wasn't going to say something until she cut away from her silence. He was going to let her break first.

It was still hard for him to acknowledge that she was his savior tonight. Not that he couldn't swallow being saved by a woman, just the fact that he didn't expect a lifesaver to be in the form of Quistis Trepe. The gods must've thought he was truly desperate to live and so they sent one of their own.

Dear God! What is he thinking?

He slapped himself.

"What is wrong with you?" she snapped. They were nearing the Balamb Hotel, and she had to make sure she wasn't bringing in a lunatic. That would only cause the staff to turn him away.

"Nothing."

She quirked her head to the side and asked, "Why did you smack yourself then?" 

"I thought you said you weren't going to talk?" he shot back.

Quistis turned her nose up, refusing to be caught in his bait. "Hmph, I shouldn't be surprised if you shoot yourself, you were crazy enough to dunk yourself in the ocean in this weather."

Seifer just closed his eyes and shook his head. Quistis was smart enough to interpret the action to mean _Don't remind me. _He was obviously trying to avoid touching the sensitive spot of the conversation. Maybe he really was too weak to even talk about such things. Why he'd run off, or why for heaven's sake was he trying to kill himself. 

"Well, I think you should stay at the hotel. It's…" she stopped and studied Seifer.

He was shaking uncontrollably. 

"Seifer, are you okay?"

He just shook his head and shook some more. She could hear his teeth knocking with each other. His condition was more serious than she actually thought. She had to get him inside, out of the rain, immediately. She held Seifer at the elbows and led him within Balamb Hotel. It was dark except for the candles that illuminated the facade. Lightning must have struck the power and put out the electricity. Great! Their heaters couldn't work.

She guided Seifer to the sofa in the lobby and told him, "Wait here. I'll be back."

But he didn't seem to have heard her. His eyes was opening and closing. He was between unconscious and awake. It worried her even more. 

Quistis skidded towards the reception desk, but the maitre'd had his back against her. She was about to make her presence known but she heard him say in a very peevish tone, "Phew! Something smells like a wet dog."

This rankled her. "Excuse me," she said in the most high and mighty tone she could manage.

The maitre'd jumped, spinning around as if someone had lit a fire under his feet. When he saw her, an embarrassed smile slunk automatically to his lips. "Oh! I'm sorry ma'am I didn't notice you there. Will you be needing a room tonight?"

She was about to say that it was the most ridiculous question he could ask. "Yes. Preferably one with a fireplace," she demanded.  


"Of course, I apologize on behalf of the management. The outage was beyond our control." He began to write their reservation on a pad. "One room right?"

"Yes. I'm not staying, but my uh…friend," she pointed towards Seifer, who was huddled in a coughing spasm. "…Needs a room right away."

"Oh, right, right. I'll finish your registration later. Please follow me."

"Let me get the occupant first," she said, as if she was speaking to a person of considerably small intellect.

"Oh, right, right."

She moved towards Seifer in haste, making sure he hasn't gone completely asleep. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently, "Seifer, come on. Let's go."

"It's so cold," he said unthinkingly.

"I know, we'll get you warmed up soon. Let's go." She hauled him up to his feet and they made their way towards the elevator. The whole time she held him, she felt the tremors from his body through hers. He gripped at her as if he was trying to absorb all the heat he can. His hands felt like ice on her skin.

She knew the signs of a fever. Either the person was clammy and feeling incredibly hot, or like Seifer, frigid and feeling nothing but coldness. 

"Here you are. If you need anything, dial the number sign then nine," the maitre'd said, opening the door to a room and offering her a lit candle. 

"Thank you." She grasped the candle and led Seifer inside, closing the door behind her.

She motioned for Seifer to get under the covers, but he seemed to have regained a little bit of himself. "You need to get out of those clothes,"

"Promise not to laugh?" he asked lazily.

"I thought you've gone delirious."

His eyes took on that languid look, "I still might be." 

"Get yourself in that bed, then take that blasted coat off. You were complaining how cold it was earlier and I don't think you even know half of what you're saying," she said confidently.

Seifer did as he was told. Quistis sighed with relief as he finally carried himself to the bed and dove under the sheets, then removed the coat and let it fall in a messy heap on the floor. Now, she thought disturbingly, he was naked under the covers. Just as he was naked under the waters. 

Quistis shook her head and took notice of the room. It was a lovely room, warm and masculine and very comfortable. She placed the candelabra over a leather-bound book sitting on top of the bedside table, then returned her attention to the man lying on the bed. 

It nearly broke her heart to see a man of his build brought down by infirmity. He was shivering under the covers, and she couldn't stop herself from reaching down to pull the covers to his chin. 

Then his hand suddenly shot out and grasped her wrist. "Don't leave."

"Seifer, I…"

"I heard you said you weren't going to stay," he said with closed eyes. 

"We-we only have one room," she whispered.

"I don't care."

"Seifer, you're delirious. You don't know what you're asking," she said in the most reasonable tone of voice.

"Stay," he said, finally opening his eyes to look at hers. "Stay."

Something in those dark green depths told her he was actually asking for something else. He didn't want to be alone if he thought he was going to die. 

He must be more feverish than she'd estimated. She reached a hand to brush away a stray hair over his brows. "Seifer, you're going to be fine," she said, as if she were speaking to a child. "Tomorrow, you won't even remember what you've said tonight."

"Then kiss me."

She pulled herself back. "What?"

"It's so cold. Kiss me," he mumbled, pulling at her waist.

"Seifer, you're not yourself. Just go to sleep and I'll see you in the morning."

"You said I won't remember. Kiss me," he repeated and closed his eyes. "I won't remember." 

Just as she was afraid of. She knew Seifer wasn't going to jump at her and make an untoward advance given his indisposed state. No, the danger lay squarely within herself. Frankly, she was terrified to spend another moment in his company. 

Funny how he was asking her for something she'd already given. It was all too convenient for him. She remembered their first kiss so well, while he slept through it and he didn't even know he had stuck his tongue in…never mind. And now here he was asking for the same convenience at his disposal where he would likely forget the whole thing, while she goes on living with the memory of it. The irony couldn't be crueler.

"Kiss me," he said again. But he didn't open his eyes.

Quistis leaned in closer. Even by the light of the solitary candle, she could see his eyeballs moving quickly under his lids. It was bizarre, she thought, to see another person dream.

"Kiss me," he breathed again.

Her heart fluttering wildly, she leaned down and brushed the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on his lips. She lingered there for a while as his body had ceased quaking. It wasn't the sort of moment she wanted him to remember in the morning. But then, just when she was convinced that he'd settled into a deep sleep, his hand moved over her cheeks and he deepened the kiss. 

He was beginning to pull her down with him to the bed. Her senses came back and she yanked herself away.

"Seifer, stop!"

His eyes fluttered open and from the steamy look he wore, he was still swimming in delirium. She moved herself away from him. Away from the bed. 

"I'm…I'm going to start the fire," she blurted.

Seifer smiled then slowly closed his eyes. "I rather thought we already started."

****

A/N: I'm late, I'm late, I'm late! I'm really sorry. I know I promised Aug. 24, but I had to edit quite a few in this chapter. Don't worry, next week will be update-mania. Chapter 14 will be posted on Monday, Aug. 26. Thank you all readers!!!


	14. Chapter XIV

Chapter 14

"It's hard to find a good man, but sometimes a bad man is even better." 

It was dangerous to stay in the same room with him. But much more in the same bed. And Quistis was in dire need of a place to sleep and the floor was beginning to feel just awful. Naturally, hotels make bath accessories available and she was thankful, at least, for the single towel that provided as cushion, making her seat almost bearable. She took the liberty of donning a robe, compliments of the hotel of course, while she dried her clothing by the fireplace.

She was huddled on the floor and stabbing at the cinders mindlessly with a poker. It had been already an hour since the storm had finally calmed down and turned into nothing more than a mild shower. But outside was the least of her concern. This is the second consecutive night that she hadn't any sleep. Her body was tired, but her mind was restless and insisted on staying awake. 

It was ironic really, when earlier that afternoon she told Irvine that Seifer won't be staying in her room, or with her for that matter, any longer. But circumstance had their way of turning and she now found herself staying with him through the night. It was necessary, she thought, that she should monitor his well being. Although she had enough experience with Dr. Kadowaki to care for the injured, Seifer's condition was something different that occurs inside his body. It scared her most when every once in a while, he'd release one of those coughs that just might chuck out his lungs. Quistis didn't save him from the sea just so he could die from influenza. It was only natural that she should stay. And not because he asked her to.

And he would have lived through the storm, not because she had saved him, but because he was stubborn to boot. Panic. It was what sent her hurtling herself into the water after him. But before panic, before she dove after him in the frigid ocean, before she stepped out of her dorm, before she stepped out of Garden, and into the rain, all it was, was just plain and simple apprehension. 

She needed to know where Seifer was. She needed answers. And it was definite that she won't likely find any from Laguna. Why else would he leave her out of this mystery? But the most disconcerting thought, was that she somehow knew, deep down in her bones, that Seifer might just make a good leader. It sounded ridiculous, but she had to believe it. That was the craziest part of all.

Quistis can't say that he is a wholly changed man. No, he was still Seifer through and through. His eyes still mirrored his past. He hadn't let go of his misdeeds and that was probably why he became the man he is now; because he refused to be condemned to repeat it. Seifer will always be Seifer, he didn't change as he grew older, he just became more clearly himself. And it was his guilt that would drive him to prove his ghosts wrong. The constant reminder of his transgressions was enough to push him to make himself better. And if she knew Seifer, he was tenacious and proud to a fault. 

It had been a long day. Two days without sleep was really a long day, she thought groggily. Between running around Garden, dashing to and from Balamb and weathering the storm…Her eyelids drifted shut. It had been an unusually long day and…

Quistis sat up suddenly, her heart racing. It was a deep groan, followed by a thrashing noise. She hastened to Seifer's side and looked him over. He was lying on the bed, almost preternaturally still. The covers were pushed down, dangerously below his navel. Quistis edged closer, her eyes focused on his chest. She knew he couldn't possibly be dead, but she'd feel an awful lot better once she saw his chest rise and fall.

"Seifer?" she whispered. "Seifer?"

No response.

She crept closer, leaning over the edge of the bed. It wasn't needed to light a candle, because he was swathed in moonlight from the window. "Seifer?" she repeated. 

His arm shot out and draped around her waist, pulling her off-balance until she fell onto the bed.

"Seifer!" she squealed. "Let go!"

But he began to thrash and moan, and there was an adequate amount of warmth coming off his breath and body that Quistis knew he was in the grips of a fever.

Somehow, she managed to tug herself free, and came tumbling off the bed while he persisted to toss and turn, mumbling a procession of words that made no sense. Quistis waited for a quiet second, then darted her hand out to feel his forehead. It was on fire.

She chewed on her lower lip as she tried to decide what to do. She had no experience nursing the feverish, but it seemed to her that the sensible thing would be to cool him off. On the other hand, the infirmary always seemed to be kept closed, stuffy, and warm. But then again, Seifer seemed to have pushed the covers down and lying spread eagle on the bed, because if he were shivering he would have been clutching at the covers to his chin. So maybe…

Seifer started to thrash again, and then, out of nowhere he murmured, "No."

Clutching the ties of her robe with her right hand, she leveled herself on the bed to examine him, curious as to what he was dreaming about.

"No," he said again. But his eyes remained closed. "Don't go."

As if it was second nature to her, she reached out and smoothed his brows. "Shh, I'm right here."

He opened his eyes, and for the merest of seconds appeared completely lucid and said, "Not _you_." Then his eyes rolled back and his head began turning from side to side again. 

"Too bad, I'm all you've got," she whispered. "Stay there," she said with a nervous chuckle. "I'll be right back."

And with her blood racing through her veins, she ran to the bathroom and sat on the lidded toilet.

If she learned anything during her days as a nurse-aid to Dr. Kadowaki, it was that there always seemed to have a bowl of cool water and a hand towel on the bedside of her patients. She had no trouble finding those in the bathroom. She filled a pitcher, as a substitute for a bowl, with water and scavenged a few small towels. It wasn't as if Seifer had any mortal injury that a cure spell would help.

When she returned to his side, she found him lying quietly still again, but his breathing was shallow and rapid. Quistis laid a hand over his forehead and she was certain it had grown hotter.

She plunged the cloth in the pitcher, then wrung it out until it was no longer dripping at the corners. "This should make you feel better," she murmured, dabbing it over his brow. Then she added in a quite self-doubting voice, "At least I hope it will."

When he didn't flinch, she took it as a good sign, so she placed it carefully on his forehead. She prepared another cool towel, but she had no idea where to put it. On his chest didn't seem right, and she wasn't going to let the coverlet move any lower than his waist, unless the poor man was actually dead. And even then, she still wasn't inclined to, because she doesn't have any idea what she could do to resurrect him from down there. 

When she noticed that he was beading with perspiration, she swept the linen over the sides of his face, behind his ears and continued on to his neck. "Feel better?" she asked, although she wasn't expecting any sort of reply, she hoped that her voice would at least settle him down. So she continued with her one-sided conversation and added, "You better be worth all this trouble. I can't seem to get any sleep since you came along."

He shifted in distress then mumbled something completely incoherent.

"Well, don't flatter yourself," she replied. "If you want me to dream about you then you must stop keeping me awake," she joked, trying to smile but failed miserably.

He mumbled again and she took it as a response.

"You think so?" she asked, touching the cloth lightly to his nose. "I'm going to have to disagree with you."

Seifer went still.

"Alright, fine. I'll let you win this time," she said gracelessly.

When he didn't move, nor make a sound, Quistis removed the towel from his head and dipped it again in the pitcher, then squeezed the water out and placed it back over his brow. She sighed. A person could only converse with an unconscious man before one started to feel extremely silly.

Really, Quistis, it sounds as if to fall in love is the only thing that could get you to be silly.

She dropped the towel.

Good God! Quistis gasped, thunderstruck. What was Laguna's voice doing in her head?

She dunked the other small towel in the pitcher. Quistis didn't bother wringing it out, because this time she placed the towel on her face, and let the rivulets roll on her neck. She hoped that the chilled water would bring back her sanity. 

It was a fruitless effort because the old man's voice kept replaying over and over in her head. And there seems to be no stop or eject buttons. So she decided to remove the towel from her face.

This was the cause of sleep deprivation. But how could she sleep now that there seems to be an annoying speech of an old man in her head?

Sleep. She needs to sleep. There seems to be no other way to avoid it. 

Now that Seifer seems to have finally calmed down, she thought that it was time to pay attention to herself. Even if she knew that he would push the covers down again, she pulled it up anyway. 

She gave him one last glance, if only he'd realize how lucky he was not to remember this whole evening. Because she will be having a difficult time falling asleep if she was trying to analyze the entire event and still recall the whole thing the next day. And the day after that and the day after…

The first thing Seifer noticed the following morning was a damp cloth over his brows. He removed it decadently and thought, it can't be healthy, and tossed it away as it landed in wet slump. It puzzled him why he found himself stretched out in an ornately furnished bed in an ornately furnished room. But then again, it puzzled him why he couldn't remember how he got there in the first place. 

It was like the Ragnarok incident all over again. But this time, his throat felt like it was on fire.

The last thing he remembered doing was swimming. And the storm.

Temporary amnesia seems to frequent his days suddenly. It was growing frustrating. So he chose to just lie there, not caring anymore of whatever surprise was in store for him. Because the last couple of days had been full of surprises, and whatever comes through that door couldn't possibly stun him any longer. He'd already made a couple of assumptions. This could very well be, he thought sourly, the Esthar Palace. Or better yet, if he was lucky, a woman's bedroom.

She probably might be a fairly attractive woman. He only wakes up beside the prettiest ones, even if he was too drunken the night before, he was still able to tell the difference.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to look out the window just to find out where he is.

He threw the covers aside and found, not to his surprise, himself stark naked. It was his preference that he sleeps unclothed anyway. And maybe, just maybe, he had _fun _last night after all.

Without pulling anything on, he walked over to the window just as he is and looked beyond the glass. To his relief, the streets, as he recognized it, were of Balamb. 

This is nothing more than the Balamb Hotel.

He let out a long shaky breath. Maybe he shouldn't be relieved. He was planning to get away in the beginning. Actually, for five years if he could begin to recall.

And there's no time like the present to do just that. The earlier he gets started, the better to catch the morning train. He was leaving Balamb for the third time. And this stay was probably more memorable, since he couldn't remember ever setting foot inside the dorm room of Quistis Trepe. He could only imagine what the Trepies would pay just for him to describe the interior. 

But to his utmost astonishment, when he pivoted away from the window, the image before him was like a punch in the gut.

There she was, sleeping on the floor at the foot of the bed. Quistis was barefoot and wearing what he could only guess was a complimentary hotel robe. There was the obvious Balamb emblem on the chest pocket. She looked very disheveled and extremely uncomfortable.

He didn't stand there for very long and strode, albeit nakedly, towards her sleeping form. It completely slipped his mind that he was nude when he scooped her up in his arms and laid her on the bed. She didn't stir. It was obvious how she didn't get much rest the previous night. Seifer pulled up the coverlet, tucking her in gingerly, then he sat on the edge of the bed.

And the most disturbing sensation crept up on him. It had always been there, but this time, it made its presence known again, and it was far stronger than before. It was guilt. He couldn't bring himself to look at the sleeping woman on the bed again, because he knew for sure that it would only remind him that he was the cause of her exhaustion. That he was the one to drive her to the floor.

There was a pitcher of water and linens on the bedside table, the telltale signs of a nursing chore. Not to mention, the damp cloth he found on his forehead earlier. Whatever happened between the time he was swimming back to shore and waking up this morning, was lost to his memory. 

He still felt warm all over his body and his throat seemed to have closed up, but it was easier to ignore than the situation at hand. 

Maybe there was more to last night than it seemed. What if he did or said something untoward? He didn't…They didn't…did they?

Maybe, he thought with a depleted sigh, she deserved an apology.

He wasn't exactly sure what he needed to apologize for; he was certain that there _must _be a specific thing that needed it.

But the situation needed _something. _

He sat there for what seemed like hours but it had only been mere minutes, when he felt the mattress move under him. Quistis shifted on her side and began to awaken. He looked her over and saw that she apparently doesn't really want to be awake, but the intense morning light goaded her to rouse. 

Seifer almost forgot he was completely nude, sitting there with his naked rear in full view, and that was definitely something he did not want her to see first thing in the morning. So he slid down to the floor and sat there, so all she would have to see was his head.

When she finally came to, Quistis sat up and looked utterly confused. 

"Good morning," he greeted from the floor.

She blinked. Once, twice, then again. "What am I doing on the bed?"

He coughed before saying, "I think people call it sleeping."

"No, I mean…are you alright?"

He just quirked an eyebrow.

Quistis shook her head to clear her meaning and said, "I mean, you were ill last night. You had quite a fever, you know."

"I did?" he asked, knowing full well that he really did. He still felt the remnants of that fever.

"Yes," she said, deciding that it was time he deserves reprimanding. "And now that you are finally clear-headed – " she paused, thinking on the last word she'd said then decided to rephrase. "I don't think you've ever been clear-headed in your life since you can't tell the difference of a bad weather. You were such an idiot going off into the beach like that. Do you know how many men were lost at sea this past year? No, I don't think you do. If you wanted to kill yourself, you should have just asked me and I'd gladly shoot your empty head. And what on earth are you smiling about?"

He coughed, or was it a stifled laugh? "I wasn't smiling."

She didn't believe him, but she didn't pursue the debate on whether or not he was actually smiling. "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Nothing. From the way you've put it, I don't seem to have a good defense," he said with a dutiful smile. 

"Well, at least you know I'm right." She released a muffled yawn and added, "Good for you, you're finally starting to think like an average human being," 

"If always agreeing with you is an average human's description, then I must be on the wrong planet," he replied in good humor.

"How strange," she muttered under her breath.

"What's strange?"

"You're supposed to be cantankerous after a fever," she answered. "I was so ready for it."

He grumbled something under his breath that she couldn't quite understand then followed it with, "You've really been expecting the worst of me, have you?"

She backed up a little. "No, I didn't mean it that way. I had a few experience with Dr Kadowaki, and I have it on good account that men are just the worst sort of patients."

He raised another eyebrow.

"Really, your species are easily reduced to a baby," she said with a sniff.

"I've just disproved your theory, I'm not being grumpy right now, am I?" he disputed. "Besides, I'm feeling a bit better than I probably did last night." Then he discharged a rumble of cough, which earned him a reproaching look. 

"I didn't uhh…" he cleared his throat. God, did it feel prickly.

Quistis watched him curiously, waiting for him to finish what he wanted to say.

"I didn't do anything I ought to apologize for, did I?"

Then to Quistis' utter horror, she blushed.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"No!" she said quickly. "Not at all."

Seifer narrowed his eyes and gave her one of his stony stares. "You just blushed."

"I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"If I did," she answered defiantly. "it was because I'm surprised that you'd think there was any reason you should apologize."

Seifer tightened his lips at the corners and gave her a look that suggested he was growing annoyed where the conversation was leading.

And Quistis was smart enough to recognize it and changed the topic. "In any case, you're still not well enough to be walking around," she stated, preparing herself to get up.

Then Seifer remembered that he was still naked. His full form may very well be hidden from her while she was still on the bed, but if she gets up… Well, he didn't particularly care if she'd see him in all his naked glory, but if she remained under the covers for a while, at least her 'awareness' would be kept at a minimum level. "Wait, I uh…stay there."

"Why?" she asked, still muzzy from sleep.

"I forgot to put my clothes on."

Her response was her lips forming an 'oh'.

He stared at her blankly.

She stared at him back.

He stared at her some more. Then finally, he said, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Aren't you going to tell me where my clothes are?"

"Oh! Yes, I hung it in the bathroom," she replied, waving a hand in the direction of his clothes.

He gave her another stare, then tilted his head in annoyance.

"Now what?"

"I'm going to stand up. You may feel free to look all you want," he said, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "But I'm asking you to go under the covers for the sake of your sensibilities, not mine."

"Oh! Right, right." Then she covered herself with the bedspread, seeing nothing but patterns, and hearing the padded footsteps across the rug. She heard his movements in the bathroom, then a clutter of some sort.

"Can I come out now?" she yelled from under the covers.

"Not yet."

How long does it take to pull on a shirt and a pair of pants? She waited for another full three minutes. "Well? Did you find them or what?"

Then she heard his voice booming from the bathroom. "I found them alright."

She was going to pull off the coverlet when at the last second, Seifer added, "But they're still damp."

"Rats!" she muttered. She had been so tired that she forgot to put them beside the fire, along with her clothes last night. 

"You can come out now." His voice sounded near.

When she piped her head out, she found him sitting at the foot of the bed, the rest of his body, except for his head, were hidden from her view. "I would've thought they'd be dry by now," she exhaled.

"Well, they're not. And my boots are ruined."

She swiped at her eyes. "You should've thought of that before you decided to chase an ocean," she countered.

He shook his head, and ignored her last rejoinder. "I got to wear something."

Quistis' head snapped up in sudden motion. "I know!" she said, her eyes lighting up. "My clothes are dry."

"Are you suggesting that I wear your clothes?" he asked dubiously.

"No, I'll get dressed then you can wear this robe," she proposed. "It's a bit big on me."

Seifer's look told her that he wasn't enjoying his naked state, much more than having to agree with her idea.

Quistis looked as if she was rather proud of herself to have worked around the problem about his nudity.

"And where are you're clothes, my dear?" he asked, his tone mixed with sarcastic humor.

Her eyes swept across the room, and found her clothes hanging neatly by the fireplace. Three feet away from Seifer. Oh, drat!

"I'll get it," he offered mordantly. Without warning he stood up. It was obvious he did it just to startle and annoy her.

But before she could even see the indentation on his back, she quickly dipped her head under the covers. Good God! Does the man feel any shame at all?

Then she felt her clothes hitting the other side of the blanket, which was when she felt safe to look out. And once again, Seifer was sitting on the same spot. "Wait a second," she said, beginning the process of removing the robe under the protection of the sheets. It was an easy task, since it only has a tie to secure it. When she was finally as naked as Seifer, she tossed the robe in his direction and made a quick grab for her clothes.

"Finally," he said, slipping into the robe and tying it securely at his waist. "I'm starting to get really cold," 

Quistis was struggling to pull on her underwear while lying down, and with gritted teeth she said, "Wait 'til I'm finished. Then you can take the bed."

Seifer felt ridiculous wearing a robe that couldn't even meet his knees. "This ca – "

If the situation couldn't get any worse, and when Seifer thought there wasn't anything else beyond the door to surprise him, he was wrong, terribly wrong, because whatever he was about to say was roughly interrupted by a door swinging widely open and a loud, "Quistis! Where have you – "

Then it was quickly followed by, "Oh….My….God!" The words tumbled slowly out of Selphie's mouth, standing, staring stupefied at the doorway.

And then another, "OH…MY…GOD!" This time was a lot louder because it came from Zell.

The next to enter was Irvine who was staring quite shamelessly.

Then Squall entered…then Laguna.

It might as well have been the whole neighborhood.

With Seifer standing beside the bed, with nothing on but a robe, and Quistis on the bed with nothing on but the coverlet, which she was nakedly clutching to her bosom, the picture they made was one of the most compromising to ever graze their memory.

It only goes without saying that people these days could only think in one direction.

A/N: Sorry sorry sorry!!! I'll post the next chapter soon.


	15. Chapter XV

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Chapter 15

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"If A is success in life, then A equals X plus Y, plus Z; work is X; Y is play and Z is keeping your mouth shut." - Albert Einstein.

As Quistis' world shifted alarmingly on its axis, she had come down to two realizations. One; her life as she'd known it, had just practically ended. And two; the looks on the five faces staring down at her will be forever etched in her memory.

After what seemed like an eternity of a cricket noise, Selphie finally broke out, "I-I-I'm so sorry, very, very sorry. We didn't mean to - that is...I thought, that you - that uuhh..."

Irvine elbowed her on the side and whispered. "Quiet before you choke on your own foot."

Then Zell, who isn't very well known for his tact said, "You two are not..." He couldn't bring himself to say it. "Are you?"

"We're not!" Seifer and Quistis yelled at the same time.

"Sheesh, just asking. No need to be in such a hissy fit," Zell returned.

Seifer was just about to say that he'd give him something to be in a hissy fit about. But Quistis, in all her agitated distress at last exploded.

"Someone get him out of here," she burst, referring to Zell. "Actually, all of you get out of here! Irvine you explain everything, I'm so tired of explaining." She threw a hand at them and continued with more emphasis. "It's me who should demand an explanation. You all came barreling into this room that _I _paid for."

"You heard the woman. Get out, there's nothing to see," Seifer added. Suddenly feeling more awkward that it didn't sit well with him that Quistis is sitting there, as half naked as he is, for the entire world to gawk at.

"Well, if you ask me, I'd say I could see everything," Zell said.

Seifer's fingers curled into fists, a sure sign that he wasn't up to humor anybody at the moment. Then he turned to Quistis and said, "I swear I'm going to muzzle him."

"Oh please, do your worst."

Zell just stood there, somewhat wounded. "Quistis, you'd let him do that to me?"

"Yes! If you don't shut up and get out! All of you!"

Laguna motioned everyone to the door and said, "Let's go people. Give them a bit of privacy."

Quistis prayed for more than just a bit. She wanted a lifetime of privacy.

They filed out of the door, and the last one to leave was Squall, who had been staring at Seifer the entire time with his famous disdainful glare, and of course, Seifer threw the favor back. But before he saw the last of Puberty Boy, he needed to tell him something.

"Hey Squall," he called out.

Squall turned to face him.

"Nice pants."

Squall didn't say anything and instead, gave him his back and disappeared behind the door. But before it connected back to its latch, a fist slipped in between, and jutting out was one (offending) finger.

Seifer broke out in a hoot of laughter. It was rather refreshing to see him again. And after all these years, it was amazing how he could still enjoy him get irritated.

"How could you laugh at a time like this?" Quistis demanded. She was holding on to the coverlet with such intensity that her knuckles turned white. "Because if there's any humor in this, I'm not seeing it."

"I thought it was rather obvious," he said.

"Oh, I see it now." Quistis jumped from the bed, taking the sheets along with her, securely wrapped around her body. "The whole situation is perfectly convenient for you, isn't it? You could easily look back and laugh over at this whole mess that you've made because you never planned on staying here in the first place. You don't need to worry about how you could face your friends again, or how much you've missed out on your work." She flipped her hand through the air dismissively. "Oh wait a minute, I forgot, you don't have friends. You don't even have a job. Well I've got news for you, I do"

Seifer eyed her acutely and crossed his arms, saying absolutely nothing.

"God! What must have they been thinking? We didn't even..." she stopped, then thought of the right words. "We didn't even do anything!"

"If nothing really happened," Seifer said quietly. "then why are you even so concerned?"

She drew back slightly and fell silent. Her eyes were blinking rapidly and she could feel the wetness in them. She wasn't about to let him drive her to tears, so she swiped at her eyes and coughed as she did it, trying to hide the movement by pretending to cover her mouth. Then she muttered in the sternest tone, "If there's any fairness in this world, this has to be all your fault."

"My fault?"

Quistis had gotten her rigor back and completely forgetting that she was completely nude under the coat of bed sheets. "If you hadn't gone stupidly to the beach last night and made yourself sick, we wouldn't be here right now, would we?"

Seifer nearly flinched at the rancor in her voice. "Well, forgive me if I forgot to thank you for that heroic rescue, but then again, I don't remember asking for your help."

She was so tempted to say that he did ask her to stay, only that he didn't remember it, but where would that lead them? The burden of having to carry on as if _nothing_ had happened was just a bit too much. She felt rage rising within her, roiling in her chest, pressing against her stomach until she thought she would burst. "You made me feel sorry for you!"

"Oh now, _that's _what a man wants to hear," he sneered.

"For the love of God, Seifer," she snapped. "I didn't save you _because_ I felt sorry for you."

"Then why?" he asked, with as much acid as he could put in. "I thought you would've been thrilled to see me gone."

"That is true," she admitted. "But I also didn't want to see you cast adrift."

He took a step toward her, advancing with barely controlled fury. "I've been adrift all my life. So your point is moot. You're rescue couldn't have been more too late."

Quistis was stunned. "You really don't know how much potential you've got, do you?" she whispered. "You're not an idiot, Seifer. In fact, you're smarter than you let yourself think," she continued hotly, then she realized to her disgust what she had been saying. "God! Why am I even trying to defend you from you?"

Seifer gaped at her, unable to comprehend how she could dismiss years of self-resentment in one blithe sentence. "You don't understand," he said, shaking his head. "You of all people, you couldn't possibly. Just look at you," he flicked his wrist toward her. "You're near perfect, so don't give me advice you've never needed yourself."

She wanted to smack him. Nothing seems to get through to this man. "You think my life is perfect? You think being hounded by the 'Trepies' twenty-four-seven is perfect? How about all of your decisions are being made for you? I bet you'd just love that," she added with biting bitterness. "Why don't you try living with nothing but hotdogs for diet," she said, her voice rising in volume. "You want to know what I really do at Garden? Do you?" Quistis asked in an awful tone, practically shouting each word. "I wipe the snot off the nose of little kids. I've never been given a mission for the past four years, and instead, they stuck me in the classrooms with a bunch of eight-year-olds. I've been doing nothing Seifer. And nothing but papers, after papers. Papers that have me trapped until my dying day, and Trepies lurking at every corner. If you want my life so badly, you can have it."

Seifer stood motionless, his face unreadable. Suddenly, he smiled. It was a cruel, hard expression, one she'd seen on his face so very long ago. "You really don't get it."

Quistis felt sick, she knew what was coming next. She averted her gaze from his and let his words sink sharply into her skin.

He grasped her upper arms with such ferocity and his face came menacingly close to hers. "If you want to complain about the trials and tribulations of universal admiration, try being an exile for a day. See how that feels like then let me know what you want to complain about," he bit off.

Then Quistis dared to meet his eyes again, but regretted the moment she did, because in those dark green depths, she felt her heart wrenching in her chest. She swallowed convulsively, but her throat seemed to have tightened. But she managed to say, "Seifer, you're not the boy you think you were."

"I know that," he said, but his eyes darted to look at something else.

"Seifer, look at me," she ordered gently. When he did, she repeated, "You are not the boy you think you were."

"I know that," he said again, looking puzzled and maybe just a bit annoyed.

"Are you sure?" she asked softly.

"Damn it, Quistis! I know - " he stopped short. "Quistis, get dressed." Seifer pointed to the bathroom. There were just some things a man didn't want to deal with a half naked woman. "Put some clothes on for crying out loud."

It was an evasive maneuver, if she ever heard one. For a man who dwelled so much on his past, he didn't particularly like to talk about it. It haunted him, but he still refused to face it. "You're a coward, Seifer," she winced as the insult crossed her lips, but it had to be said. Then she stalked off to the bathroom, carrying her bundle of clothes, leaving him standing there, confused and very irritated.

The bathroom door slammed shut, and Seifer slumped in the bed, thinking he'd gotten himself deeper in a mess. Oh, he could walk away so smoothly and take the next train out of Balamb, leaving her reputation in tatters. But his conscience wouldn't allow it. Neither would his pride.

He'll show her that he isn't the coward she described him to be. He'll show her how much he isn't the boy....

Damn it. He owed her an apology. It ate at him to think that he did. One thing he didn't do often was apologize, because there were rarely such times that he needed to. But _this _situation needed something.

He stood up and walked to the bathroom. He was going to knock, but decided against it. Instead, he pressed his ear against the door, feeling like the worst sort of heel as he did so.

He didn't hear anything, it was quiet. "Quistis!"

"What?"

"I...uh..." He could have kicked himself because he didn't know what to say.

Suddenly, he heard the familiar noise of a hair dryer.

The damned woman was trying to drown him out, obliterating anything he could have said. He banged on the door, "Damn it, woman! What are you doing?"

The door suddenly swayed open, she was fully clothed in her...pajamas?

"I'm drying out your clothes, you nimrod!" she said, waving his shirt and pants, while she carried the hair dryer in the other hand.

"Oh," he felt like an idiot. "Uh, thanks." He saw beyond her what appeared to be his duffel bag, which was still soaking wet, and...his gun-blade case leaning against the toilet. Seeing it made him feel more the fool. He had a picture of her in his mind carrying him, along with his possessions from the beach, up to this point. It humbled him.

Quistis sniffed. "Well, just wait outside." She still looked annoyed with him.

"Look, I should be doing that. You go downstairs," he said, reaching for his clothes. "Your friends are waiting for you."

He thought she was going to clout him with the hair dryer with the look she just gave him.

"Alright, alright!" he said, managing to pull out a strangled smile. "I'll come down with you."

She pulled back. "Really? I didn't think you'd stay after...after..."

"Forget it.'

"I ca - "

He cut her off by pressing a finger over her lips. "Don't say anything. Just...smile."

"Smile?" she asked, looking baffled.

"Yeah. Smile," he said once more. "I uhh...really should've thanked you. So, thank you."

"It was no - "

He shushed her again. "I said don't say anything. Let me talk this time," he whispered, his eyes more intense. "And I'm sorry."

Her eyes grew wide. "You know, I was just thinking of saying that."

"Really?"

She nodded.

"Well, if I knew that, I should've just kept my mouth shut," he said with a hint of mirth.

"You beast!" she said, but it contained more glee than it should have.

He laughed. It was a genuine sound that she felt rumbling within her soul.

"I'll wait outside," she said.

Seifer nodded and began the process of drying his clothes. It suddenly felt strange how much he required her nearby, all so suddenly. It was mind numbing to think about. But right now, he wouldn't analyze it, he'll just go with the flow, do what impulse says and see where it takes him from there. But still, it would be wise to take caution.

It was starting to feel almost natural to have her there constantly. Whatever happened between them was something he didn't want to find out, but whatever it is...it felt good. There was that spark, that strange undeniable spark between them whenever they fly insults, or throw a joke, sometimes even a teasing smile.

Suddenly, those moments mattered.

It was so very odd, because five years ago, she didn't even matter. Nothing about her mattered. She was suddenly...there. Just there. Constantly there.

His clothes have finally dried. He pulled on a pair of dried underwear then donned the rest of his clothing. He checked himself in the mirror and studied himself.

__

You are not the boy you think you were.

Maybe, just maybe, she was right.

He sucked in an amountful of air then opened the door. Quistis was sitting on the bed and gave him a strained smile. He suddenly felt that he wanted it to grow wider.

"I've got an idea," Sefer said, his eyes lighting up in an impish glimmer.

"Whatever that is, I don't want to be a part of it," she retorted, but nonetheless, curious to know what it is about.

"Let's go crazy," he added quickly. "Let's have them believe something had really gone on between us."

She gasped. "Are you insane?"

"Didn't I just suggest to go crazy?" he chortled. "Besides, we both know nothing _really _happened." Then he paused and asked, "Well, nothing that I know of, right?"  
Quistis fought off the heat from her face. "Of course nothing happened," she bit out.

"Right! So what's the harm? Just imagine their reaction. Don't you want to know what they'd say? Their faces? Just imagine the look on their faces."

"I've already seen their faces," she snorted.

"Have some life, Trepe. This only happens once in a blue moon," he said, mischief glittering in his eyes.

Suddenly, she saw a shadow of the old Seifer of five years ago in those emerald greens. The same devil-may-care fellow he was reputed to be.

Much to her surprise, she heard herself ask, "Promise that this would be fun?"

"One hundred percent guaranteed," he beamed. "After saving my ass, a good time is the least I could give you."

Suddenly, they heard a shuffling noise at the door. It was hard to tell if the person on the other side was trying to eavesdrop or merely standing out there in the hall for another reason. Both Seifer and Quistis looked on. Then, they both looked at each other.

"Quistis, go jump on the bed," he murmured.

"Why?" she asked in a very low tone.

The shadows under the door shifted.

"Just do it," he said. "Make some noise."

"Like what?"

"Sound as if...ah...you're enjoying something."

Quistis thought of ice cream. She always enjoyed a bowl of ice cream. She hopped on the bed and started jumping, the springs squeaking under her weight. "Oooooh," she began.

Seifer's head snapped up. "What the heck was that?"

"I was thinking of ice-cream. I like ice-cream."

"Think of something else," he hissed. He noticed the shadows moving again. "And try not to sound so...childlike."

"Oh, I see." She began jumping again. "Mmmmmm..."

"Yeah that's it," Seifer approved, then he hopped on the bed with her. "Aaaahh...yeah, that's the spot!" he said with a guttural groan.

Quistis tried not to laugh, but she truly enjoyed fooling her friends into thinking the worst. She heard shuffling on the other side of the door, the shadows seem to move more. "Did you see that?" she whispered.

"That means we're good," he said. "Now say my name."

"What?"

"No, scream it."

"Seifer!!!" she called out.

"Not like that," he ground out. "Say it like you would for ice cream."

She knitted her brows and then finally, "Oh I get it," she paused, then continued, "Oooooh, Seiferrrr."

"Yes, that's it," he said, feeling more giddy than he could ever remember.

They continued moaning, groaning, and jumping. The bed squeaked, and the headboard bumped into the wall.

Until very suddenly, the door fell open and came rolling in were Selphie, followed instantly by Irvine, next to tumble in were Zell, then Laguna...and even Squall, all on top of each other.

Quistis and Seifer broke out in a whoop of laughter. They were laughing so hard, they fell on the bed together. It was ingenious, the whole plot was perfectly ingenious.

While the whole lot of them on the floor was embarrassed at having been caught listening in. But it was Selphie who had the courage to make an exclamation. "That was just mean!"

Seifer stood tall on the bed, looking down at them like some playful god, "No," he drawled. "That was fun."

"I'm so sorry, guys. I couldn't help it," Quistis said in between gasps of laughter. "You've already formed your opinions, there was little I could say to change your minds."

Then Irvine dusted himself off from the floor and stood. "Seifer has turned you into a monster." He offered her his hand and helped her down from the bed.

"You guys, that was just sick!" Zell exclaimed.

Then Seifer bounced off his pedestal and eyed him. "Funny to hear you say that, since you were just caught eavesdropping."

Zell's face burned like hot peppers. "I'm getting out of here," he announced, striding out of the room.

Not surprisingly, Squall had disappeared already. Seifer was just as surprised to have caught him with the bunch, but he was eager to have seen his reaction, a glimpse that he was at least human to react. Too bad he didn't stay long enough to say something. But then again, he rarely has something to say. Especially when the situation included him.

"Well, now, I think that was the cleverest joke." Laguna beamed.

"You think so?" Quistis asked.

He nodded. "Isn't it nice," the older man said, leaning so that only Quistis could hear his words, "to discover that we're not exactly what we thought we were?"

And then he walked away, leaving Quistis wondering if maybe she wasn't quite what she'd thought she was.

Maybe - just maybe - she was something a little bit more.

****

A/N: I'm stumped. I didn't know what exactly I was thinking when I wrote this chapter.


	16. Chapter XVI

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Chapter 16

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"A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous." - Ingrid Bergman

Everyone gathered for tea at Irvine's house. Except for Squall who wasn't the least bit interested in tea or 'talk' for that matter. He'd rather be killing monsters in the Training Center back at Garden than be involved with the 'latest gossip'.

But after much deliberation, explanations and discussions, it was decided, more to Seifer's displeasure, that he resides with Irvine for the time being. 

This caused a lot of brows knitting in confusion, and rising in surprise. All eyebrows except for Quistis.

"What the hell for?" Zell demanded.

"We'll see in a couple of days," Laguna said.

"Probably months," Quistis supplied.

Then Seifer mumbled, "How 'bout never."

"What was that?" Laguna asked. Obviously, his hearing sense is deteriorating in age.

"He said, 'I've got a fever'." Quistis answered quickly as she secretly elbowed Seifer then added with gritted teeth and a forced smile, "Isn't that right? You said you've got a fever."

Seifer just looked at her.

Quistis smiled awkwardly at everyone. "He's being difficult. Surely you all know how illness can make a person thus."

"Well I'll be...," Zell said blankly. "You're making excuses for him, it's like history repeating itself." He meant it as a joke, but nobody laughed.

The world stood still.

It had hit everyone, except maybe for Zell, how much impact those words had created on Seifer. He practically winced. No one really had the gall to mention anything about the 'past' or 'history' to his face other than Zell, whose intention was not to spite him, rather, he was just plain oblivious. It was maybe because his mouth moves faster than his brain cells. Not that Zell isn't capably intelligent, he wouldn't be a SeeD if he weren't. Zell is just, well, Zell. The guy who thinks everyone in the world gets along with each other.

"What?" he asked cluelessly.

It was a surprise Seifer didn't make a riposte that would sound something like 'Chicken-wuss' or any other wisecrack comebacks. He just stood there in silence. A very foreboding silence not even seen on Squall.

"You know, if you leave now, you'll be able to catch the last hotdog," Irvine hinted.

Zell looked at his watch. "Oh Grats!" And before anyone could say anything, he was gone.

"I'm going to follow Zell," Selphie incurred. "You know, make sure that he doesn't hurt himself on his way down."

She couldn't have said, _I'll put him in his place _more loudly. 

"Good idea," Quistis murmured a bit unnervingly. She could hug Selphie for her remarkable insight.

But Selphie was off.

Squall had been long gone even before the whole 'talk' even began. But she doubt she'd have difficulty shooing him off anyway. Now all she was left with was Seifer, Laguna, and Irvine. All three whom she might want to consider strangling. They didn't budge.

She needed to speak with Seifer. And it would be impossible if she has an audience. She needed to talk to him before they parted ways. And maybe, just maybe, she might be able to persuade him to make the right decision.

"Laguna, I heard the Fest-Com is holding a bingo back at Garden," she said with a strangled smile. "I bet you don't want to miss that."

If anyone took notice that she was being obvious about ridding his company, it wasn't Laguna.

He laid both his hands on his cheeks in surprise. "Really? Wow, I've never bingo'd before. Sounds like fun."

Sometimes the old man could get so cute it was sickening. She could think of many reasons why 'bingo'd' couldn't be considered as a word, but none on why he was actually buying her ruse.

"Yes, really. I believe it starts at one p.m."

"Great!" Laguna cheered with a delighted smile. "Seifer, I'll see you tonight at Mrs. Dincht's for dinner. I need to talk with you." He turned to Irvine and said, "Make sure you bring him."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Irvine replied with a mock salute.

"Does Zell even know he's coming?" Quistis raised.

"Uhh...he will," Laguna replied, eager to get to the exit.

Quistis let out an unladylike snort. "After two consecutive nights, I can't believe Mrs. Dincht would still want us back at her house."

Irvine opened the door for Laguna and saw him out, when he returned he said, "You got to understand, Quistis, the poor woman lives all by herself. A little company is the least she could ask for."

Quistis released a defeated groan. "You're right. But I'd hardly call _us _little."

She looked directly at Irvine.

He beamed a flashy smile.

It seems that Irvine posed to be a difficult chore to get rid of. He didn't look like he plans on going anywhere and appeared to be very amused.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" Quistis asked pointedly.

Irvine shrugged, "Not really. I live here, you know."

"Didn't," she asked through clenched teeth, "you just tell me you promised to buy Selphie flowers?"

"God, no. You must've misheard."

"Perhaps she's looking for you, then. In fact, I could hear her calling your name."

Irvine grinned at her discomfort. "You're not supposed to be so obvious," he said in a stage whisper, purposely loud enough for Seifer to hear. "He'll figure out that you like him."

Seifer's body jerked with hardly contained laughter.

"It's not his company I'm trying to keep," Quistis said acidly. "It's yours I'm trying to avoid."

Irvine clapped a hand over his heart. "That hurt, Quisty." He turned to Seifer, "She really hurt me."

"You missed your mission, Kinneas," Seifer said genially. "You should have been an actor."

"An interesting thought," Irvine replied. "But Selphie would just think I'd make her stage plays a living disaster." His eyes lit up. "Now that's an idea. Just when I thought this town is getting boring."

"Oh please," Quistis moaned.

"Well then, I'll be off. And Seifer, curfew's at nine," he said jokingly.

"Sure, whatever."

"See? He's in agreement. And you say he's very hard to live with," Irvine said as he made his way towards the door. "I'm going now," he announced. "And try to make use of the sofa-bed while you two are alone, eh?" He executed a smart bow and walked off.

Quistis and Seifer remained silent as they watched Irvine disappear behind the door and waited for his footsteps to fade. "The next shriek you'll hear," Quistis said blandly, "will be Selphie's."

"And the thud would be her, hitting the pavement," Seifer added.

Quistis nodded, a reluctant smile playing across her face.

"I could have sworn you just couldn't wait to get me alone," he teased.

"Oh, please."

"Keep saying that and you just might get what you're begging for."

Her face burned. "You don't know what I've been begging for, and I'm not going to talk about that."

Seifer braced his legs apart and folded his arms across. He seemed to be very interested on what she was going to say next. 

Then he grinned.

"Whatever your deluded mind is thinking, it isn't '_that'_," she said, straightening her shoulders. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

He looked disappointed. "Don't we always talk about something?"

"If you just stop interrupting me, you'll find out that this 'something' is far more important than anything," she cleared.

He stared at her. And appeared ready to listen.

Quistis cleared her throat. "Last night, at Mrs. Dincht's house, Laguna announced that he will be retiring."

Seifer blanched. 

"I don't know when, but he meant soon."

He didn't utter a word. He just stood there, motionless and unreadable. 

"Seifer?"

"What the hell's that got to do with me?" he asked, his tone containing a considerable amount of annoyance. 

"Everything!" she snapped. "And you know it."

He had no ready comment, so he just snorted and glared at her.

"For God's sakes, Seifer, you can be king if you wanted to. And I know you want to, but you just think you can't."

"I haven't any idea what you're talking about." 

Once again, she has to give him credit for another evasive maneuver, but this time, it wasn't as good as the last.

"Seifer," she said, placing both hands on his shoulder, as if she could level her height with his. "I found his note in my garbage bin last night. I know what Laguna wants from you." She searched his eyes for a part of his soul that was willing to listen. "Don't you see? He's given you a chance to prove the world wrong and make everything right again."

His face maintained that same stoic expression. "I don't want it," he hissed. "The old geezard could hang for all I care."

She dropped her hands to her sides. There are times when Quistis just wants to smack him across the face. And this is one of those times. "Don't even try to make this about what he wants. We're talking about _you_."

"We?" he echoed acerbically. "Since I got here, I find out that I was being watched for over five years and then my future is practically planned out for me. Nobody did anything but talk about me now that everyone knows I'm here." He threw up his arms. "And what do I care, it's only my life."

She couldn't believe that he had the effrontery to talk about life altering decisions with her, but he did. And she had a ready reply. "Welcome to my world, Seifer."

He stood aghast. A man could only get stuck with an intelligent woman for so long until he could feel a leash tugging at his collar. Seifer could kick himself. Did he just describe her life condition? By God, he just couldn't watch his words anymore ever since...well, ever since he arrived back in Balamb. 

Heck, he'll just keep his mouth shut. He'd let her do the talking. It's not as if he'd let her convince him anyway.

"Seifer, sit down," she said calmly.

He looked at the bed. Not a good place to sit, he thought. So he strode towards the divan and sat there instead.

She sat across him, close enough that he could smell her. "Where's Fujin and Raijin?" she asked.

He didn't expect her to switch the topic so soon. And very off topic it was. It was hard to examine how her mind works, but he'd probably go crazy just thinking about it. "I don't know. The last time we saw each other was here, in Balamb."

She sat back. "I thought so. Do you know what they do?"

He shrugged. But God, did he really want to know.

"Fujin manages the auto-shop here. She's very good with cars. And Raijin, well, he's one of the best fishermen that Balamb has."

He thanked her silently. He didn't realize until then, that he was holding his breath, dreading some sort of bad report about his 'posse', but when it was otherwise, he wanted to smile. A huge, toothsome smile from ear to ear. It felt good to know that his friends were doing far better than he was.

"They're very happy," she continued. "Do you know why?"

He just slouched in his chair.

"Because they chose to be. They picked up something and made their life better," she said, her eyes holding more sincerity. "And I don't know anyone more capable of doing that than you."

Seifer rolled his eyes. "I knew at some point that you'd refer back to me."

"Don't you understand? Fujin and Raijin had to start from scratch, but you," she motioned a hand towards him. "You're given a far better opportunity than they have. You should consider yourself lucky that Laguna's even thought of you as a candidate."

"A mystery I still can't explain," he said dismissively. 

Quistis fought the urge to shake and shake and shake him until he finally realizes that it isn't a mystery at all. "Seifer, sometimes, I think you're no more than three years old."

"If you put it that way, then I really don't think I can rule a country," he replied.

Quistis took on a faraway look and grew pensive suddenly. This was his cue to escape, but damn his curiosity, he wanted to know what she was going to say next.

"You're scared," she whispered mindlessly. She hadn't meant for him to hear it.

He choked on air. "Excuse me?"

Of course, he was scared. Quistis thought. The only leadership experience he'd had was based on his failures as a leader. Sweet Hyne! He's more scared now than ever to make another disappointment. Not to mention that he'll be leading a whole nation, and what does his résumé contain? A fallen Squad leader who botched a SeeD exam, and a tyrannical general who led the Galbadian army to disgrace. If anything, she shouldn't be talking to him about leadership. She shouldn't have been talking to him about his life.

Because if it wasn't for her 'mediocrity' and lack of leadership skills herself, Seifer wouldn't have to be scared about anything. 

The realization couldn't have come to her sooner. She wanted to bury herself in deep hole.

"What did you say?" he demanded irritably.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "Oh, Seifer, I'm so sorry."

He stared at her for the longest of seconds. Something tells him that she was apologizing for something else entirely. "I think apologies usually come with explanations."

"I shouldn't be speaking to you about your life decisions. I realize now that it wasn't my place," she said quietly. "But that doesn't mean my views on this changed. Although I still think - " she stopped short.

He looked as if he was soaking up her speech like a sponge.

Quistis stood and moved herself several feet away from him. She didn't face him. And for the first time, words escaped her. "I-I failed you. It was my job to make sure you pass, I was to lead my students to make the right decisions," she admitted, but this time small speckle of tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. "But I failed. If only I did my job right, you'd be a high ranking SeeD by now, do you know that?" _And you wouldn't have fallen with the wrong side, _she said mentally. And he wouldn't have doubts about his capabilities.

She whirled around and saw that his face was drawn and tight and his eyes were focused on her mouth. He didn't say anything. A ripple of panic washed over her and she began to talk faster. "If there's anyone to blame, it's me. I know, I was a lousy instructor, I think I still am, but - " 

He remained quiet, sitting there and looking at her in a very odd way.

"Seifer," she called out. "Please say something."

He shifted in his seat and finally, just when the earth would drop out of its orbit, he spoke. "So if I accept Laguna's offer, it would make your guilt go away." he sneered.

Her mouth gaped open. Good Lord, how does this man think?

"I can't believe you just said that," she blurted. "Now you're just being ugly."

"I can be a million other things, but president is not one of them," he said, crossing his arms.

She swiped at her eyes and sniffed. It was almost too hard not to break down and cry, when she had already given him a glimpse of her tears. But she was now shaking with rage. How could he think that she was forcing him into doing something to feed her guilt? She didn't even realize that she should have something to feel guilty about until then. And it sure wasn't her fault that he misinterpreted her words. 

But then Quistis felt her temper flaring. She couldn't accept that he thinks _he _was her failure. If anything, they failed each other. But Seifer, for all his self-pity, could only believe the worst about himself, and the worst of what people think about him.

"Are you even listening to me?" she asked, losing control of her volume that was rising. "Just when I thought you are the intelligent, sensible and sometimes, I hated to think, even kind, man I believe you to be, you try and make yourself ugly." She flung a hand in the air and continued with as much venom as she could put in, "But who am I to blame you? You only think about the worst opinion that I could have, anyway. It didn't even occur to you that I actually believed in you, and that somehow I have faith in you, failed to cross your mind."

He froze. 

Quistis wanted to clamp her mouth shut, but what was said had already been said. There was no taking it back. She was so angry with him, she forgot to mind her words. How close was she to baring her soul? If this keeps up, getting angry and mindless words running forth, she'll find herself at loose ends in no time. 

She wanted to run. She wanted to pull a sack over her head and not look at him forever.

So she turned around and looked at the door instead. It never looked so good before. A great speech is usually more dramatic if followed by a splendid exit. What a way to leave him thinking on her last words.

"Don't even think about it," he warned.

He must have known she was staring at the door, she thought grimly. "I _was _thinking about it," she muttered, her tone coated with annoyance.

"I heard what you said."

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "You had to be deaf not to hear everything I've said." 

Quistis didn't see him rise from his seat, but before she knew it, he was standing right behind her.

"Turn around," he ordered.

Quistis knew she'd make the biggest mistake if she did. But her body betrayed her. Her feet moved listlessly under her as the rest of her followed suit. 

Then, she was face to face with the Golden-haired frustration. Only this time, the air suddenly grew hot, very hot, and Quistis had the bizarre sense that she no longer knew how to work her tongue, it's as if she needed to learn how to speak again. Her skin tingled, her heart raced, and the damned man was just staring at her, staring, staring, and staring, not moving a muscle, not moving his mouth, not even blinking.

Just staring at her.

"Seifer?" she whispered.

He smiled. It was a small meaningful smile, one that sent chills right down her spine to another area altogether. "I like it when you say my name," he said.

A soft rush of air escaped Quistis' lips as she gasped. He was going to kiss her.

He was going to kiss her. It was the most wonderful and awful thing that could ever happen.

But she wanted it. She never dreamed she'd ever want to be kissed by Seifer Almasy. But she truly did.

She knew she was going to regret this tomorrow. She laughed inwardly. Who was she kidding? She'd regret it in ten minutes. But she had spent the last two nights remembering what it felt like to be really kissed by him and she wasn't sure she can make it through the rest of her dreary days without at least one last more memory to keep her going.

In the end, he was going to leave. He always leaves. But this time, he'll have a bigger responsibility with no room for someone like her. And who was she anyway?

He lifted a finger and floated it across her cheek to her temple, then from there, traced her eyebrow as it moved to the bridge of her nose. "So pretty," he said softly, "like a fairy tale princess come to life."

Her only reply was a short intake of breath.

"I think I have to kiss you now," he whispered. "It's kind of like breathing, I don't have any choice in the matter."

Seifer's kiss was achingly sweet and tender. His lips brushed across hers in a feather-light caress, back and forth, with just the barest hint of friction. It was entirely breathtaking, but there was something more, something that made her dizzy and weak. And her feet felt as if they weren't touching the ground any longer, but her stomach seems to have dropped. Quistis clutched at his shoulders, wondering why she felt so off-balance and strange. And then it suddenly came to her - 

This won't likely happen again. 

All the sweetness in the world was all wrapped up in this one kiss. The way his lips brushed hers, so soft and tender, the way he began with gentle titillation rather than forced entry - it was exactly the kind of kiss one would give as the last.

"You're crying," Seifer said, touching her cheek.

Quistis blinked, then wiped the tears she hadn't even realized were falling.

"Did you mean it? Do you really believe in me?" he asked, searching for reassurance.

She nodded, but didn't dare to meet his eyes.

"Look at me, Quistis."

When she did, his eyes were more intense. It was darker, but the color was more vivid.

"Tell me again."

She opened her mouth, it was hard to get a sound out, but when it came, she said, "I believe in you, Seifer."

He drew her the final last inches against him. His hands, so large and strong covered almost half her back, held her to him with the strength that left her breathless. And his body - sweet Hyne, it ought to be illegal the way it was pressed against hers, the heat of him seeping through her clothing, searing her soul.

"You know, when you wished me luck, I really thought I needed it," he said against her hair. 

Quistis stiffened. The tears were threatening to overflow again. "Oh, Seifer, I'm so sorry."

"Shhh..." he crooned. Hyne, did he feel sorry too. "You really think I'm smart and kind?"

He felt her nod slowly. He smiled. Maybe he _is _smart and kind after all.

As he held Quistis, in the middle of a lofty apartment, in the middle of the afternoon. That spark, that damnable spark that was always there between them, burned brighter than the day itself. It was almost blinding.

Strangely enough, it felt...nice.

And it had been a very, very long time since his life had felt that way.

****

A/N: Sorry, sorry, sorry...I'm beginning to lose my concept on this story. Not only that, I've fractured my arm by stupidly falling from the top of the stairs (mind you that it was at my home, I would even understand it if the accident occurred on any other stairs, but at my own house? Just when I thought I knew how many flight of stairs I've got) and thus explains my overdue update. I couldn't type at all for the past couple of days. But I am on the mend. I hope this 'mushy' part of the story tugged at your heart. I really couldn't pull Seifer off as the emotional sort, heck it was a damn trial. But I hope you understood why he can be a potential candidate for the Esthar presidency. 


	17. Chapter XVII

_"Dreams that do come true can be as unsettling as those that don't." – _Brett Buttler, "Knee Deep In Paradise."

By the time Quistis reached the outer steps of Irvine's building, she was on cloud nine. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Instructor number fourteen was grinning like an idiot, beaming thirty-two or so straight, white teeth. The streets were busy with afternoon activities, and the children were scattered in-groups of games. Because she was so busy smiling, she didn't regard the nuisance of kids at play. She caught a stray ball hurtling her way without looking up and skipped through a Double-Dutch game without batting an eyelash. And she was smiling all the while. Smiling, smiling and smiling.

She may be more oblivious to anything than Zell, but this, she thought, was bliss. The sun was high, but the weather was mild, the birds flew over head, the breeze was refreshingly cool, and the waves lapping at the shores were music to her ears. She could even hear angels singing in chorus. It was ironic considering that there was such a storm the other night, but the day was even more beautiful than before.

She had felt transformed. Suddenly free of the burden of being Instructor Number Fourteen, she felt a new personality coming to the fore. It wasn't as if she had been putting on false airs; rather, it was more like her true self – the one she didn't know how to show to anyone she didn't know well – had finally broken loose.

She'd laughed; she'd joked. She even flirted. Well not really flirt, but whatever it was, it got her kissed.

It was almost too difficult to breathe. But she'll die smiling. Yes, that was something she hadn't done too often. This was a genuine smile. This moment couldn't have come to her sooner. But nonetheless, she was glad it did. She felt like dancing, she truly did. One might say it's childish.

The kiss had made all the difference. Oh, she knew she wasn't going to receive anymore in the future. She won't likely see him again after all. Seifer isn't going to stay in this small, stifling island. His capricious nature wouldn't allow him.

But she wasn't going to let that ruin the memory of their kiss. It was the only thing she could hold on to after he's gone. She'd relive the moment to get her through the rest of her days.

And this day will always have a special mark on her calendar.

Quistis took the long way home, cutting across Balamb Square for no other reason than she liked the sound of grass sliding under her boots. She'd been positively giddy since this morning. Even as she walked several feet away from the building where Seifer was, she wondered when her lips would stop tingling.

"Happy, happy, joy, joy," she sang to herself.

She reached a particularly damp patch and moved like a skater on the grass, softly singing, "Joy, joy, happy, happy," as she slid forward.

But she had the worst timing in the history of civilization (well, in her mind at least), when she skidded to a halt at the last instant instead of landing on her bottom, right when she heard a male voice call out her name.

It couldn't have been anyone more annoying.

"Irvine!" she said in a slightly peevish tone, holding still as she waited for him to reach her side. "What a coincidence."

"Balamb's too damn small for coincidences," he said, looking like he was trying not to smile. "Were you dancing?"  
"Dancing?" she echoed.

He looked at her as if she didn't know what the word meant. "You know, a series of steps and movements. That kind of dancing."

"I was not dancing, I was skipping." She swallowed guiltily, because although she wasn't technically lying, she felt as if she were.

"I see," he muttered, but he was obviously suppressing a smile. "Well, whatever had you 'skipping' must be some very strong stuff."

Quistis had no control of the heat travelling over her face, and it was too obvious that Irvine had to notice.

"Aha!" he exclaimed. "Now, I'm dying to get home and see the tape."

Her head snapped up like a wild cat's. "What tape?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh," Irvine appeared surprised. "I guess you didn't see the video camera I left running in my apartment," he drawled.

Quisits felt the blood leave her face as horror dawned on her. But what wasn't apparent was that she was actually considering murder. The idea had never sounded so good.

Irvine took one pitying look at her and let out a nervous exhale. "I'm just joking, Quistis. You can start breathing now."

Quistis wanted to make some sort of cutting comment, but the truth was, he had so startled her that she couldn't utter a word.

"Now I'm very curious what just made you blush." He wiggled an eyebrow and gave her that knowing look.

She didn't even bother to wonder how the chemical make up of his brain works, always thinking of the dirtiest conclusions. "I swear Irvine, you act like a five year old."

"And that would put you where," he counted his fingers for effect. "six?"

Lacking a suitably cutting retort, Quistis just fixed upon him her blackest scowl.

But Irvine only laughed. "That's very attractive, but you might want to remove it from your face, because Your Knight In Rusty Armor is coming this way."

He meant Seifer. But Quistis refused to fall for his bait this time. He wasn't going to Make Her Look.

Irvine leaned forward and whispered, "This time, I'm not kidding."

Quistis held her scowl.

Irvine chuckled.

"Quistis!" Seifer's voice. Right at her ear.

She whirled around.

Irvine's laughter grew more heartfelt. "You really ought to have more faith in your favorite buddy."

"He's your favorite _buddy_?" Seifer asked, one golden brow arched in disbelief.

"Only because I couldn't tell Selphie about you," Quistis bit off. "and Zell's standing has never recovered from the time he gave my phone number to the Trepies in exchange for hotdogs."

"Makes me wonder what Squall's done to deny him a mention," Irvine muttered.

Quistis glared at him and asked. "Don't you have anyone else to annoy?"

Seifer looked from Quistis to Irvine as if he was watching a ping-pong match.

"I do, but you're _my_ favorite," Irvine declared.

"Kinneas," Seifer called in between their banter. "you forgot to turn your camera off," he said and tossed a miniature video camcorder to Quistis.

Irvine paled.

Quistis reddened.

Irvine looked at Quistis who practically had steam coming from her nostrils.

"I swear, I didn't!" His mouth was opening and closing in a nervous wreck. "I was only joking. Seifer's just playing with us. He wasn't even here moments ago to even know about my joke. You've got to believe me."

Seifer was laughing inwardly. He really had no idea what they've been talking about earlier. He had intended to make a joke on Irvine about spy cameras installed in his apartment by Laguna, but he did not expect to see Quistis with him. At least his trickery was turning out to be a fine amusement.

Quistis was frighteningly calm until she said, "Irvine, I shall give you a ten second head start, and I promise you, that if I catch you," she paused for added suspense. "You. Are. Dead. You are so going to die."

There wasn't a man who did not fear dying from Quistis' magic abilities. It was a very slow and painful death. And Irvine was afraid that he might be close to that fate.

"Nice seeing you again, Seif." Irvine gave him a perfect salute. "Don't start counting, until I'm good and gone."

Quistis didn't bother to count, because he was already a football field away, even before she could utter 'one'.

"Took him long enough to take the hint," Quistis mumbled.

"You really have little faith in him," Seifer said.

She shook her head. "Whose side are you on?"

"That, my dear, if you look closely, is not even a camera," he said smugly, pointing to the object in her hand.

Quistis looked at the small black item.

"Well almost," Seifer added, "but just the lens."

Quistis laughed. Hard. She knew this day would come. The day when Irvine Kinneas would finally meet his match and leave him looking like a moron. She didn't think she'd see the day when his pestering would back fire at him, the day when he would meet someone as clever and who can actually outsmart him.

_You definitely deserve a man who's equally clever. Or someone who's capable of outsmarting you._

She abruptly stopped laughing.

Not again, she thought. Since when did Laguna's voice register in her brain like an automated tele-marketer? She bet the old man has some sort of skill, other than spying, of installing repetitive subliminal messages in someone's mind.

"Quistis? What's wrong?" Seifer asked.

"Oh…nothing."

"That didn't look like nothing to me."

"I just remembered something, that's all," she covered.

Seifer didn't look convinced, but he gallantly dismissed it, tossing a hand in the air. "Anyway, I didn't expect to run into you, but since you're here," he paused, tightening his lips at the corners before continuing. "I might as well tell you."

Quistis held her breath.

Seifer looked around their surroundings. "Can we go somewhere less public?"

But he'd already dragged her before she could utter a response.

They reached a fairly shaded spot that blocked them from anyone who might come across Balamb Square.

"You look different in the afternoon," he said.

Her lips parted in consternation. "You took me here to tell me that?"

He shook his head.

"What is it?" she asked.

But he didn't allow her to react, or release a gasp as her eyes widened when his head closed in and his lips landed on hers.

Seifer wasn't sure at what moment he knew he was going to kiss her. It was probably something he never knew, just something he felt.

Up until that very last minute he'd been able to convince himself that he was only pulling her behind the hedge to tell her he was leaving, that he was only going to say goodbye.

But something had happened – it started this morning – or maybe it had been happening all along, and he'd just been trying so hard not to notice it. Her eyes changed; they almost glowed. And when she parted her lips – just the tiniest bit, barely enough for a breath, but it was enough that he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

His hand snaked up her arm, over the sleeve of her shirt, and across her bare skin. It stole around to her back, pulling her closer, squeezing out the distance between them. He wanted her closer. He wanted her around him, atop him, beneath him. He wanted her so much it terrified him.

He molded her to him, his arms wrapping around her like a vise. He could feel the length of her now, every last inch. She was considerably shorter than he was, so her breasts flattened against the bottom of his ribs.

He shuddered with desire.

Seifer groaned, a primitive sound that was mixed with need and frustration. He wasn't going to be able to have her this night – he wasn't able to have her ever, and he needed to make this touch last him a lifetime.

But the rest – how she would feel, how she would taste – he could only imagine.

And then somehow – to his dying day he would never know how – he stepped away from her. Just an inch, but it was enough for the cool afternoon breeze to slide between their bodies.

His hands cupped her cheeks, holding her steady so that he might drink in the sight of her. It was bright enough to see the exact colors that made her face unforgettable, but Seifer knew that her lips were soft and pink, with just a tinge of peach at the corners. He knew that her eyes were made up of dozens of shades of blue, with that one enchanting circle of green constantly daring him to take a closer look, to see if it was really there or just a figment of his imagination.

When he saw her across a room, his skin grew hot, but when he saw her in his dreams, he went up in flames.

Now – now that he had her in his arms, her breath fast and uneven, her eyes glazed with need she couldn't possibly comprehend – he thought he might explode.

And so kissing her became a matter of self-preservation. It was simple. If he did not kiss her again, if he did not _consume _her, he would die. It sounded melodramatic, but at the moment he would have sworn it to be true. The hand of desire twisting around his gut would burst into flames and take him along with it.

He needed her that much.

When his lips finally covered hers again, he was not gentle. He was not cruel, but the pulse of his blood was too ragged, too urgent , and his kiss was that of a starving lover, not that of a gentle suitor.

"Oh, my God," he moaned, his hands biting into the soft curve of her buttocks, pulling her closer, needing her to feel the pulse of his desire. "I never knew…I never dreamed…"

But it was a lie. He had dreamed. He'd dreamed in vivid detail. But it was nothing next to the real thing.

It no longer mattered what was right, what was proper. All that mattered was that she was here, in his arms, and he wanted her.

Reluctantly, he drew away.

She was breathing rapidly, her pulse still racing with passion.

"You brought me here for that?" she said with a touch of sarcasm.

"If I leave, will you come with me?."

She stiffened then asked, "What?"

"Didn't you hear me?"

"I heard you, but –"

He stopped her short. "We'll leave this place, just you and me."

Seifer would have expected her to be surprised, but from the look she was giving him, she was downright deflated.

"You're really set on leaving, aren't you?" she whispered.

He dropped his arms at his sides. "I thought I made it clear."

There was a flash of fleeting anger in her eyes when she said, "You left me thinking you'd stay and consider your options."

"I didn't say anything of such."

"What did you expect me to believe after you…after you – "

It humbled him that she wasn't even able to say what they've shared. "People call it kissing."

"I know that," she said, as a red tide overcame her face.

He raised a supercilious brow. "Obviously, you don't want me to leave."

She didn't say anything to that, because if she did, she would have been lying.

He smiled contentedly and said, "I like kissing you too."

Quistis' face animated into what he could only call as shock. "That's not what I –"

"Then come with me," he repeated once again.

"To where? Where's your home, Seifer?" she asked, crossing her arms indignantly. "Do you even have one?"

There was a full minute of silence before Seifer replied.

He merely nodded and simply said, "Esthar."

Quistis' world spun at an alarming rate. But she was too exultant to want it to stop. It was all overwhelming and yet altogether frightening.

Seifer is going to be a president.

"Will you come with me?" he asked her once more.

Her lips were moving erratically, not knowing which words to form. When all's said and done, she was blatantly torn. Between her home. And the man who can possibly make her dreams come true, and as well, easily crush it.

He didn't wait for her response and instead, sweetened the pot. "I'll be a damn good president, that I know for sure. I can't fail now. I promise you."

When she still didn't utter a reply he added. "I'll give you whatever you want. Clothes, jewels – hell forget about the clothes and jewels, you never have to work anymore most of all, I can give you _this_."

Quistis had just enough time to gasp before his lips descended on hers with a ferocity that turned her knees to water. It was like no kiss they'd ever shared, harsh with need, and laced with an odd, strange anger.

"I want you," he said roughly, his lips finding the hollow at the base of her throat.

"Seifer – "

"I want you in my bed," he growled, "I want you now, I want you tomorrow and I want you the next day."

Quistis was wicked, and she was weak, and she gave in to the moment. His lips felt so good against her skin, sending shivers and tingles to the very center of her being. He made her long for him, long for all the things she couldn't have, and curse the things she could have.

With a tortured cry, she pushed him with all the strength she could muster from both her heart and body and achingly said, "No."

His breathing was haggard.

"I can't be your…" She couldn't say it. The word tasted bitter.

Oh, God, it was so tempting. So incredibly tempting. He was offering her a life of ease and luxury, a life with _him._

But at the price of her soul.

"I don't see why not" he muttered.

The arrogance of his tone pricked at her, or maybe the impudence in his posture. Her palm connected like whip to his face with such ferocity "Because I don't want to," she snapped.

His eyes narrowed, not with suspicion, but with anger. "You just wanted to a few seconds ago."

"I wasn't thinking."

His chin jutted out antagonistically. "You're not supposed to be thinking. That's the point of it."

She blushed as she redid her buttons she wasn't aware, until now, that had been undone. He'd done a very good job of making her not think. She'd almost thrown away a lifetime of morals and etiquette, all at one wicked kiss. "Well, I still won't be your… hussy."

"And what are you going to do instead?" he hissed. "Work as an instructor for an institution that never really cared about _your _potentials? If you truly are that valuable to them, then the least you could expect is a promotion or a raise. What do they do? They fired you and as a reward for your heroic service in the war, they just give you your job back. Isn't that nice of them."

The truth couldn't have stung more if it came from someone else. But she held her composure and dignity, "If I have to work myself to the bones, I will. But I will not work like _that _for you."

"You'd rather drown in paperwork when I could dress you in silk – hell, forget the silk, I'll dress you in nothing at all and we can have bliss." Then he tried to pull her again, but she backed away.

His trick wouldn't work on her twice.

He raked a shaking hand through his hair.

She'd hurt him, she realized. She had hurt him and insulted his pride, and he was lashing out like a wounded bear.

But she was dying inside.

He leaned forward instead, his eyes burning hot into hers. "I could give you everything."

Somehow she managed to stand up straight, and somehow, she managed not to cry. And somehow she even managed to keep her voice even as she said, "If you think that's everything, then you're probably not president-material."

She took a step back, intending to head to Garden, then she added, "And you can't possibly afford me."

It was possibly the hardest thing for her to do. She turned around and never looked back.


	18. Chapter XVIII

****

Chapter 18 

__

"You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don't try." – Beverly Siles

Seifer had left town that same day. He'd left Balamb without a word to anyone. But it felt more like he'd left just because of her. Quistis knew that his pride could only take so much beating. She knew he was going to leave eventually, but she wasn't so sure how soon until later that evening when Irvine knocked on her door with a vicious pound and met her with a furious look.

"Where is he?" was his first greeting.

"You mean Seifer?"

"No, your pet moogle," Irvine practically snapped. "Of course I mean Seifer."

"Obviously, he's not here," she said simply.

"I'm going to kill him."

"That's if you can find him first," Quistis said.

Irvine paced to and from, leaving tread marks on her carpet. "Well, at least Laguna didn't ask me about him, he probably forgot he told me to bring the bastard," he muttered.

Quistis felt her spine stiffen. She might have the right to call Seifer nasty names, she thought egotistically, but Irvine certainly didn't. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she said, pointing towards her door.

Irvine stood firmly on his ground. He didn't appear to be easily removed. "I'm not leaving until I know what's going on."

Irvine can be stubborn, she knew, especially when he's enraged. And for the first time in a very long while, she hasn't seen this side of him. She knew he wasn't going to budge. She sighed in defeat. It was amazing how he could irritate the grits out of her and yet at the same time, see through her as well. She's beginning to understand Irvine a little more everyday. That maybe if he could find the things that can mostly annoy her, then certainly he can also find the things that could easily hurt her.

"Why weren't you at Mrs. Dincht's tonight? I know you could've come even if he wasn't there," he barked, breaking into her thoughts with considerable force. 

"I had some work to finish," she shrugged. "And I needed to catch up on my reading."

Irvine wasn't swayed, and so he snorted, "I wasn't aware you were falling behind."

"I don't have anything to tell you, so there's really no point in you staying here."

"You're going to tell me something, alright, and I'm not budging until you do," he said obdurately.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Just a moment to try to relieve the headache that had been plaguing her since this afternoon. Since her spat with Seifer. She didn't want to tell Irvine about that. She didn't even want to tell him as much as what he told her. News always traveled fast around their small circle of friends. 

She wasn't sure how she got the energy, but there was a particular invigorating advantage to putting up a good front, so she squared her shoulders, raised a brow and said, "You're not in any place to budge on anything."

"He'd hurt you. Didn't he?"

Irvine, Quistis thought dryly, had not clearly developed a talent for subtlety.

"I swear, if he damaged your soul – "

"He did no such thing," she lied. What else can she say? That Seifer had offered her a position as his whore? And that he couldn't afford to keep her as any further distraction, while he's ruling a country? That the man couldn't – and wouldn't – make a place for her in his heart, for if he did, his weakness, his emotions, might rule him instead. 

And if she knew Seifer well enough, he's more determined than a hermit to make a place for himself in the world. 

She could find satisfaction knowing that at least, he's on his way to fulfill his dream.

Even if it meant the end of hers.

"Quistis…" Irvine's voice held no end of warning.

She kept silent.

"What happened? If something did, I swear I'd kick myself for leaving you this afternoon."

"You're not my keeper, and nothing happened, if you must know." She had been telling herself the same thing lately. That nothing really had happened. There was nothing between herself and Seifer. For Seifer, it was purely lust. And maybe, just maybe, for her, she had been confused. But the gravity pulling down at her heart was far too strong to ignore that there had been something – and there still might be.

"Alright, Quistis." He reached out and took her hand. "I'll let you handle this as you see fit."

"Thank you, but there's really nothing to handle."

"For now," he warned. "Don't think I'll let this situation continue."

But it would, Quistis thought a half-hour later as Irvine left her dorm. It could continue indefinitely. 

* * *

The following week had been lacking of color and everything had turned to its black and white series of events. Laguna had left and returned to Esthar, knowing full well that his plan on turning Seifer into a magnanimous leader had gone awry. So Quistis and Laguna shared a meaningful hug as she fared him well, and she realized as he waved goodbye from his train window, that she would be missing the old man and his recurring voice in her head.

She wanted to blame him, even though she knew that the blame lay squarely on herself. But the old man's voice, playing back over and over inside her head, until she thought she might explode, was almost too truthful not to ignore. To her, those voices were a constant reminder, that it isn't so terrible to dream, or feel fanciful at times. She had two people to thank for that. The owner of that voice, and the other one, being Seifer.

__

It sounds as if to fall in love is the only thing that could get you to be silly…

_…You definitely deserve a man who's equally clever. Or someone who's capable of outsmarting you…_

…Isn't it nice to discover that we're not exactly what we thought we were?

The least outrageous of all…is falling in love.

Maybe that was it. Maybe…she hadn't been herself lately. No, that wasn't it. She'd been herself all along, only that it was her true self. She looked back on the last several days and found, not to her surprise, that she had been outrageous. She'd laughed, she'd pulled tricks, even…almost surrendered herself blindly to passion. 

Good Lord! Is the old man telling her that she's…in love?

She threw a thousand curses to the heavens and to the gods. And to love. For allowing such a destructive force exist in the human lives. It was a feeling easily mistaken for something else. Once, she had thought she was in love, only to discover that it really was not love, but a mere fanciful admiration of being in love. And to whom else, but to the wrong person who referred a wall as a psychoanalyst. 

She prayed, dearly prayed to all forms of deity, that whatever it was she was feeling at the moment, is not love. She hoped that she's mistaken again.

Because if this turns out to be love, then curse it to hell, because in all her years of existence, nothing feels as agonizingly painful and miserably heartbreaking.

* * *

Laguna arrived in his presidential palace late that evening. He was tired, and damn his leg has cramped up again. He nodded to one dutiful servant in thanks for willingly attending to his luggage. His old bones haven't been kind to him as was before during his youth, back when he could so easily move them under his flesh so fluidly. But age caught up with him, and soon, he will expire. 

He fell heavily on an armchair in his study. The soft cushion under leather felt heavenly compared to those on the train. The trip was tiring. And, not to mention, his plan was unsuccessful.

He sighed. He had his mind set on that boy as his inheritor to the presidency, to mould him into the man he ought to be, but it seems that Seifer's pride proved to be more stubborn than his desire to rise. It would have been easier if Squall, his own son, would assume the title, but he's made it clear that he has no intentions of following his father's footsteps. 

Since he wasn't much of a father in the first seventeen years of his life, he couldn't blame the guy if he chose not to do anything with him. 

He shook his head unwittingly.

"You look like you need a drink," came a voice, jarring him from his thoughts.

Laguna looked up to see whom it belonged to. It was familiar but he had to make sure.

Recognition came to him. "Seifer."

His tall figure emerged from the shadows and revealed himself. "The one and only."

"How long have you been here?" he asked.

"Been here a week. Came straight from Balamb," Seifer said and wandered over to the decanter and poured a glass of brandy.

Laguna offered a rather satisfied smile. "You could have at least told me you were coming here. Who let you in?"

Seifer offered him the half-filled glass before he replied, "Some big guy who can't talk."

Laguna accepted the offered glass. "Ah, that would be Ward Zabac. He, uh…helped you in Deling,"

Seifer stared at him in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

"Remember Biggs? Wedge? That night in Deling?"  
Seifer's memory of that night flashed before his eyes. It all became suddenly clear to him now. He looked at the old man sitting haphazardly on the armchair, thinking that he should probably thank him. But he wouldn't take the idea into action. Not yet.

"Anyway, I had to suffer a ten-hour train ride without someone to talk to. Do you know how boring that was? Why didn't you stay in Balamb until we leave, like I told you?"  
He shook his head. "It's complicated."

Laguna leaned back in his chair. "Aaahh…. It's a woman."

"What?" he snapped.

"Complicated things usually involve a woman, trust me, I'd know," he said and added a wink.

He looked around for any signs of the 'Missus' but almost the whole interior of the palace was devoid of any sort of feminine touch. "You'd know? What, are you having troubles with your mistress?"

"What!?" Laguna jumped. "I don't keep a mistress, or mistresses, whatever. I only have one woman in my life."

Seifer looked around again, searching for the said woman. 

"She uhh…passed away."

Seifer nodded in understanding. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's alright, you didn't know." Laguna wiggled his brows. "Besides, you've probably gotten it into your head that politicians keep mistresses, eh?" 

His words couldn't have pierced deeper into Seifer's chest. The reminder was like a hot and sharp iron slicing through his flesh and searing his soul. He eyed the doorway, intending to pass through it very shortly. He's beginning to think that he's probably making a mistake coming here. He wasn't sure anymore. Nothing seems to feel right anymore. But he knew that if he did not come to Esthar, he'd regret it for the rest of his life.

"Well Seifer, I'm glad you've accepted," he said, rising from his chair. "I'll see you in the morning,"

"You're going to sleep?"

"I'm tired. I want to take a shower and go to bed. You go to bed too, because your training starts tomorrow."

"Training?" he echoed.

"You're filling in for my position, aren't you? That's why you came here, isn't it?" 

Seifer only nodded his response.

"I'm old, I need to rest. There's so much to do. I have to appear to the council, then make a public announcement, then…there's you."

"What's the part about the council?"

"I'm going to have to convince them that you're suitable for the job," he waved off nonchalantly, making the task appear too easy.

"You didn't tell me anything about convincing anyone."

"That's no problem. They trust my judgement. I've been president for twenty-two years, there's hardly any reason for them to doubt me now."

"Of course they have every reason to," Seifer nearly shouted. "You're putting an ex-convict in the office, who's not going to second guess that?"

Laguna yawned before he replied, "You're not an ex-con, stop exaggerating. And just trust me, Seifer. I know what to do."

Seifer said nothing, but it was difficult to miss the satisfied expression on his face. 

"And by the way," Laguna called out from the doorway. "I'm glad you considered this opportunity."

Seifer's lips pressed together and focused his attention on a landscape painting.

"Oh, and Seifer," Laguna called.

Seifer looked up.

"If you don't turn out to be a success," he smiled thoughtfully. "Then at least you tried to become a man of value," 

And with that last instilling philosophy, Laguna disappeared from the room.

Seifer was left contemplating and chewing on the thought that was left for him to keep him awake for almost the whole night. And as he lay on the wide bed in one of the palace chambers, he was determined to become both. He will be successful, and he will become a man of value, if only to achieve what he realized became of so much worth to him the most.

He stared at the ceiling for several hours.

He'd been alone most of his life, but he didn't expect to feel this lonely.

Bloody hell. He hadn't expected to miss her.

This was not to say, however, that he wasn't still furious with her. Did she not know the power she could wield over him? He couldn't let it happen. He can't get used to having her around, and he can't get used to seeing her everyday, it would only lead to his craving for her. And he'll end up at the mercy of this feeling, whatever it is. 

It's too terrifying. 

He wasn't such a cynic that he didn't believe love exists. But he wasn't ready to call this force love. It was a luxury he can't afford at the moment, not when he's building himself a name, and regaining back his honor.

Maybe in another lifetime, he'd have been on bended knees, begging for her hand.

But this is an entirely different time. He's a tarnished man. A true knight in rusted armor. 

Maybe, after all this, when the tide ebbs away, he hoped, prayed to God that he might finally be worthy of her.

He knew exactly what she was asking for. But it was something he could not give to her in whole.

His heart, which was still shattered in pieces, is not enough to afford her. Quistis costs more than a heart and a half. 

And right now, this was his chance to earn his back, even if he has to pick it up piece by piece.

Maybe someday, he thought as his eyes drifted shut, someday he'll return to Balamb a whole man, with a whole heart.


	19. Chapter XIX

Chapter 19  
  
_"Of course, there is no formula for success, perhaps an unconditionalacceptance of life and what it brings."_– Arthur Rubenstein  
  
It has been three weeks since Seifer's presence had graced Balamb. Consider it woman's intuition; because suddenly it seems as if he's missing her too. Of course, there still are days she reminisces about...well, that time when she had that very fleeting moment of bliss. But there's no more of it. It was time she accepted her fate to stay forever service-bound to Garden. She occupied her days with associating more with her younger students. Especially with Ty, who happen to need practice on his training skills and who, most often, consults her advice than any instructor's. Quistis found Ty's company a bit more refreshing than her adult friends and co-instructors. There was a glimmer of innocence in his eyes that she knew she had missed during her childhood. And she knew that deep down, this little boy seems to be the only one who was able to keep her mind off of him. Ty asked questions, hundreds if she could count them all, although sometimes they conversed in a silly manner, she found it all very uplifting. Ty made her feel like a kid again. But other than that, she envied him. He filled her days with nostalgic yearning for an open world such as his. But other than her close attachment with her students, she was still desk- bound for life. Her days may continue to revolve around of ennui and she may be married to a pile of paperwork, even though she was tempted to run and marry the chimney sweep, but at least, her life stayed on a steady course: no nasty surprises and no off-track happenings. Just follow plain routines again and again so as nothing to make – oh what the heck!  
Who was she kidding?  
She was miserable.  
Quistis' isn't going to beat around the bush any longer. She began to hate seeing the pitying faces of her comrades...especially on Squall. For crying out loud, what does he have to feel sorry for her now? It wasn't as if he actually cared about her five years ago, so why would he start now?  
You can ask the same thing about Seifer, genius. Her mind barked. Ever since that disturbing afternoon, her conscience had taken the voice of that annoyingly, sensible old man: Laguna's.  
Her brain had been her constant nemesis lately, she really could kick herself.  
"Instructor!"  
Her back stood ramrod-straight and she looked up. "Uh...Hello, Ty...what is it?"  
"I think class is over, Ms. Trepe," the boy whispered inconspicuously.  
Color flooded her cheeks as she looked on the young, anxious faces around the room. It was time to go, and here she was, holding her students in. Most of them probably have a class the following period. "Oh jeez, I'm sorry guys. You're dismissed. I didn't realize the time." She hastily opened the door in an apologetic method, but her students didn't seem to mind since almost all were in a hurry to get out. "Don't forget to practice for tomorrow," she reminded.  
Seeing the last of her students leave, Quistis ambled on to her desk and slumped down in her chair. What she didn't detect was a young boy, looking concerned in the middle of the open doorway.  
"Ms. Trepe?"  
She looked up. "Ty, don't you have another class?"  
He shook his head then cautiously stepped forward and said, "Are you okay, Instructor?"  
Quistis was touched by his concern. "Yes, I'm fine."  
"Oh," he said a bit dejectedly. "If you say so." Ty looked as if he wanted to say something further, but being inside a classroom must have made him realize his position.  
Screw authority, Quistis thought. She can befriend any students she wants. "Ty, what's bothering you?" she asked as she laid a hand on his small shoulder.  
"I don't think I'm in any position to say, ma'am," he said, his voice sounding a bit squeaky.  
Quistis didn't want to pry if it happened to be some sort of a 'little-club' secret. However, it ate at her that something trivial could be bothering somebody as young as Ty.  
"Well..." she drawled out. "If you put it that way, I won't ask any further."  
Ty opened his mouth but nothing came. He appeared to be grasping for words but can't seem to find the right ones. Then finally, he managed to say, "It's just that...." He trailed off.  
Quistis reached out and surprised him with a quick hug, which is rather unfathomable in a teacher-student relationship. But in the weeks of tutoring him, which, however, filled her days from idleness and thinking about him, she found a special spot for this little boy in her heart. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. But, I recommend that you tell someone at some point, or else this is going to eat you up inside. Do you understand what I'm saying?"  
Ty released a small sigh before continuing. "I heard...something."  
Her brows furrowed. "What kind of thing?"  
"A bad thing...well, at least for me it is."  
"I see," her lips formed. "Do you still want to tell me about it?"  
He took several seconds before considering his response then slowly nodded. Ty stared at the floor before he revealed his problem. "They said you're going away."  
Quistis was surprised. She didn't show it, of course, and remained in her instructor-like-composure. Who ever said she was going away?  
"Jamie said he heard it from Tommy, and Tommy heard it from Mimi, and she – "  
"Is that what's bothering you?"  
He nodded. "I really like you Ms. Trepe. I don't want you to go."  
Quistis held his small face between her hands and bore into his eyes and said, "But I'm not going anywhere."  
"But what they said-"  
"Is not true," she finished.  
It took a few moments for Ty to soak it in. He looked at her. The little boy smiled. It was something Quistis began to love seeing, and knowing that she was able to put a smile on his face made her want to smile too. "Is that all?" 

He shook his head shyly then said,   
"My mom is cooking something special tonight and I want you to come visit."   
Quistis' heart was suddenly gripped with warmth and at the same time with regret.   
"I'd love to, but I'm afraid I'm attending a meeting with the Headmaster. I'm sorry, but I think I can have lunch with you tomorrow though."  
Normally, she would stick to the Instructor's handbook that came upon her hiring, which strictly states, 'thou shall not form an attachment to thy students', but she'd let this one slip since lunch time is something shared by both staff and students.   
His face suddenly brightened. "Really?"   
"Uh-huh, but promise you won't tell anyone?"   
"Promise!"   
Then, he gave her a surprisingly quick hug before he ran off.  
_I wish I had that kind of enthusiasm._ She wondered if she had anything close to Ty's zeal for life when she was at that age. Not to mention, if she was as innocent. She could barely remember what she was like at all. Most of her memories were occupied for the Guardian Forces. However, the bits and pieces of her childhood are about the other kids at the orphanage. Most of it is of Seifer's and Squall's. Why is that? She shrugged. It's no use thinking about that now. She needs to think on something else – something that isn't so depressing.   
She groaned as she looked at the heap of paper before her. Paperwork is depressing in and of itself.   
"Could Instructor number fourteen, please report to Headmaster Cid's office. Number fourteen, to Headmaster's office. Thank you."   
That was the unmistakeable P.A. system with its second sentence repeating only the key words of the first. She had gotten used to the it's direct-hit kind of messages but when they began referring to people as numbers, she just couldn't do anything but make a mental grinding of her teeth.   
In any case, the only reason that Cid could be calling her is for her report on the 'new recruits', and her ruling decision on the passing crew. Thankfully, she's finished her five-page report just last night. She was given no deadline and left to thinking that it could be anytime. Quistis arranged the necessary papers she needed to present to the Headmaster and put it in her briefcase.   
She turned the lights out and left the dark and empty schoolroom and headed for the head-office.  
  
  
When Quistis reached the Headmaster's office, she wasn't expecting Squall to be there too. What on earth could he say that would be of interest to her? Not that he isn't important but his presence is usually required for strategic attack plans and such but not for possible candidate statuses.  
However, she thought deeply, this could get interesting.  
Wait a minute, what does the Headmaster needs to say that requires the presence of THE commander? Well, interesting her a-  
"Quistis, thank you for coming," Cid said, breaking her thoughts.  
"One doesn't seem to have a choice when called by the P.A. system, especially if one is under Garden's employ," she replied. Heck, she didn't want to sound insulting but really, she couldn't help it.  
Squall, who was standing within earshot of her, raised an eyebrow and muttered, "Looks like somebody's attitude rubbed off on someone."  
"What was that?" she asked a bit too sweetly, trying to cover the annoyance in her voice.  
"Nothing," he coughed.  
Headmaster Cid was looking back at Quistis, then at Squall. He realized there was more to this than he thought. "Quistis, I apologize for pulling you from your work, and God knows you've got tons of them."  
"It's of no consequence."  
"But I apologize nonetheless."  
She just nodded graciously. What else could she say to an insistent apology?  
"However, I think further apologies are in order for what I'm about to say."  
Squall. She should've known. Her eyes shot to his direction and tried to pierce him with it. She glared and glared until she thought she could bore a hole through him. However, it irritated her even more that he actually met her glare with a very calm and a "strictly-professional" look.  
"Now, now Quistis, hear us out first," Cid said automatically. "Squall and I mean well. However,"  
If she hears one more "however" she's just going to explode right then and there, because anything that comes after that word certainly isn't good.  
"I have received reports regarding your, uh, recent endeavors."  
"My endeavors?" Funny how he had to use that word.  
"The reports state that you've harbored a non-candidate and non-SeeD within Garden perimeters, and you of all know that this is forbidden. Not to mention, it was during the Estharian President's visit, and furthermore implicating, the said person was, and is still, restricted to enter this institution."  
Quistis didn't say anything to that, she was still furious.  
"Instructor," he said with more sympathy. "It states you as an accomplice."  
Did he have to sound so condemning? It made her feel like a criminal.  
"I wish the circumstances were different, Instructor."  
"Yeah...don't we all," she replied shakily.  
"You know I can't let this one pass."  
"Rules are rules."  
"They're not just rules," Cid said. "They're laws."  
Squall stepped forward and spoke, "Quistis, I hope you understand where this is leading to."  
"I'm beginning to, but please, proceed anyway." God, she didn't have any more energy, no strength left because she'd used them all to fight back the tears that are threatening to reveal themselves.  
"The consequences of your actions demand that you be banned from Garden and any of its affiliates," Cid spoke softly. "But, it behooves me that I have to forgo that penalty to one of my best instructors."  
She still couldn't speak. It doesn't matter if she's getting a lighter punishment than expulsion; they're still taking away her life's work.  
"I'm sorry, Quistis, but I have to remove you from your post."  
Oh, God, why did it have to hurt so much? The first time she was relieved of her duty was like a blow to her stomach. But she didn't think she could deal with it the second time. Now, it feels as if somebody had just burned her heart.  
"I'll write up a recommendation for you, in case you have plans to look for employment in other Gardens."  
"Thank you," she said breathlessly.  
"Quistis," It was Squall. "We have your best interest at heart."  
And firing her is one of them? Good God, Squall, not this, not now, she thought.  
"Squall, could you excuse us for a moment?" Cid requested.  
"Of course."  
When Squall left the room, Cid approached her. "Quistis?"  
She didn't look up, but answered anyway. "Yes, sir?"  
"I just want you to know that you're welcome to visit us anytime."  
"Thank you, sir."  
"You're angry at Squall, aren't you?"  
One corner of her mouth tipped sarcastically. "Was I that obvious?"  
He chuckled. "Don't be mad at him. Like he said, he does mean well"  
"I find that hard to believe."  
He held silent for a moment, respecting her distress, but when she didn't respond, he asked, "What do you want in life Quistis?"  
"I'm destined to teach. It's my life's work."  
"But you don't like it."  
"I wouldn't be doing it if I didn't like it."  
"But it's not for you."  
"You said it yourself, I'm one of your bests."  
"I know, and I hate to see you throw your life away forever in servitude to Garden. You're much more than just an instructor," he paused. "I've watched you grow up, Quistis. I had to be your father at times when I only wanted to be your teacher."  
Her eyes watered as something squeezed around her heart.  
"Did you know why I relieved you of your duties the first time?"  
"Because I didn't make the quota of passing students." Having said that, Quistis couldn't hide her look of irritation.  
"No, that wasn't it. I would've fired you even if you did anyway," he said. "You have a heart, Quistis. Bigger than any instructor should have. You're closer to your students than any other instructors I've seen. They love being with you, being taught by you. And I know you love them too. The hardest part in being a mercenary is that the attachments involved are usually in the most jeopardy. Do you understand?"  
Quistis frowned, "I'm a distraction."  
"No," Cid shook his head. "You're right about your destiny as a teacher, however, you're not destined to teach how to kill," he squeezed her hand as if he could sink his meaning into her. "You're destined to teach love."  
At that certain moment, she forgot who she was. She forgot who Cid was. She even forgot that she was past whimpering and that she's giving into an all-out cry. All she could think about was how much his words meant to her. Quistis didn't notice that she fell into Cid's open arms.  
"There, there, Quisty. You'll be alright," he said.  
"You haven't called me that in years."  
"You grew up to soon. You even told Matron and me to 'address' you in your given name," he chuckled.  
"I don't remember," she sniffled.  
Cid held her at arm's length and said, "But I remember. You were always two steps ahead of everyone. Up until now, you never liked being left behind."  
Quistis sunk into the nearest chair and massaged her temples in frustration. "But Cid, I am behind. I thought that climbing up the ranks would get me the happiness I sought. I keep waiting for life to happen to me. I worked and I worked but I still keep waiting."  
"You're wrong. Look at me."  
She lifted her face.  
"Quistis, life don't just happen. You happened to it, then life began."  
Quistis stared at him for the longest of seconds and realized that she'd never really thought of him as a father until that moment.  
With a weak smile, she said, "I hope you don't fire all your employees like this."  
"No, you're a special case."  
Quistis sniffed one last time. "Well then, I think I should be packing."  
"You don't have to leave right away. At least have dinner with us tonight."  
She hesitated for moment but found herself nodding anyway.  
Quistis, surprisingly, found herself exiting his office with not a heavy heart but with a quiet smile on her face. By the time she reached the outer steps of Balamb Garden a new vision lay ahead of her. Quistis breathed in the sunset, the lapping ocean on the island and a road full of promises. This, she thought, what new beginnings feel like. 

**Author's Shameful Note:  **I know, I know, there is absolutely no excuse for my shameless delay for updates but I'm going to make a pathetic attempt anyway.  First and foremost, I would like to sincerely apologize to those who have been dearly patient (or patiently dear?) with this story.  The past year has been inexorably hectic that I became frustrated and lost sight of my focus, and had nearly forgotten this fic.  However, I'd like to rectify that by returning to write again, and continue this story for those who have been good-naturedly loyal.  I'm grateful and I will try not to disappoint you.  Wish me luck!


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